


Always In Threes

by RavenZaphara



Series: An Itty, Bitty Sans-Witch [1]
Category: BittyBones (Fandom), Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bittybones, And probably blush because cuteness, Aromantic Reader, Asexual Reader, Fae!sans is literally a winged sugar cube. Too sweet. Too precious., Faeries - Freeform, Fucken cry's bittybones au, Grillby is helpful sweet little firebaby, Non-binary Reader - Freeform, Oops an angst appeared, Promise good feels, Reader is a witch and has their own business selling charms, References to japanese culture, Sans bitty is a tiny faerie, Soooo much fluff, This fic has no smut, Under-Swap Papyrus Bitty, Undertale Grillby Bitty, Witch's familiar bitties, Witches, You will laugh a lot, aroace reader, because Bux is probably a closet weeb, fae!Sans - Freeform, faerie!Sans, fic has playlists, hinted Papyrus/Grillby, more like a qp thing tho, tiniest bit of angst, us!paps is a little sass-master
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 23:18:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7074856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenZaphara/pseuds/RavenZaphara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are a witch in a small town, living well off the beaten path. You make ends meet by selling protection charms, but things are amiss. You are lonely, but that changes when a small, injured Bitty shows up on your doorstep.<br/>Having just lost your beloved pet and familiar, you find yourself latching onto this small, affectionate creature. </p><p>Just remember that life-changing events Always come in threes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sugar and Sparx and Everything Nice

It had been a hellacious month. The weather was a semi-constant drizzle that bounced back and forth between comfortably warm and breathtakingly frigid. The small road leading to your home and place of business was just as sodden as it was barren—so you were less than sure of your finances.

You knew what was amiss. You could hardly deny it. You’d cleansed your house three times in the past two weeks, trying to get rid of the scent of your cat and late familiar’s fur. You were heartbroken, you were a number of words that didn’t quite encompass the loss you’d felt.

Psymon had still been so young. And you’d just… woken up to hear him crying, laying in place, sounding pained and frightened. And then he just… stopped. You didn’t know what happened.

No amount of magic at your disposal would bring his soul back, you knew. You needed to accept that he was gone. You needed to accept that he would feel no more pain. It didn’t keep it from hurting.

At a loss for things to do, you cast a circle, and began the dance you’d been doing for years now. A blessing, a protection, a breaking, a mending. Cleansing. Drawing to the close of the practice, you sat, pulling the roll of ribbon from the table next to you and beginning to stitch carefully. You focused your magic into the thread, embroidering small swirls into the silk.

A protection charm for pets. It was one of your best-sellers, and since Spring was fast approaching, now was the time to make as many as possible. There were three collars on the counter in your meager kitchen, waiting to have just such a ribbon sewn onto the lining.

You smiled wryly through your tears and swore when the needle pricked your finger. You scrubbed at your eyes until they weren’t blurred anymore, and continued. Even without Psymon’s assistance, you were focusing a staggering amount of magic energy into this project. You truly wanted to ensure the protection of these people’s friends. Just because your best friend was gone didn’t mean you were bitter that others still had theirs.

You forced yourself to choke down some leftover chicken soup and drug yourself to bed after the collars were completed. At least you’d be able to afford groceries after they picked the collars up.

The rain overhead lulled you to sleep, but you still missed the warmth that would cuddle against your chest, rumbling, reminding you that you were much loved. You must have fallen asleep at some point, because you were now suddenly aware that you were awake, and you heard something coming from outside. Was that—

You darted up from the bed and ran full-tilt for the door, stumbling into a counter and bruising your left hip pretty badly. On top of that, you stubbed your toe, but you only cursed a bit, lurching to the door, grasping the handle and tugging it to reveal—not Psymon. Where had that desperate mewing come from? You glanced about, and your gaze settled on something small looking up at you.

“What?” You breathed. He was so tiny you almost hadn’t noticed him. You heard a peep, followed by that same almost mewling cry. You went to your haunches and peered down at him in a way you hoped wasn’t intimidating. He fluttered his wings at you, and you noticed one of them had a tear in it. Your heart ached and you wanted to reach out. You were terrified that reaching out would frighten him, though, so you resisted.

He stared up at you, his eyes tiny glowing dots of bright and energetic green, reminding you of the freshness of spring. He reached his tiny skeletal hands up at you. “Hold?” He peeped, and you stared at him in silent, gaping shock. Now given consent, you reached down and scooped him up. He was cold, shivering against your warm palm. Upon studying him carefully, you noted the trails of tears down his cheekbones.

Yes, you mused in fascination, he was indeed a tiny skeleton. He was slightly taller than your thumb was long, and slightly wider. He wore a [pauldron](http://savagepunkstudio.deviantart.com/art/Druid-s-Arm-4-366645795) on his left shoulder, looking to be made of white birch bark. It complemented the stark whiteness of his bones well. His wings fluttered, and you noticed him wince at the movement. They were thin, similar to dragonfly wings. Slender, long, and they shimmered even in the darkness, faintly green colored. He wore knee-high [boots ](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/7f/83/2d/7f832defb171db6fad711c1706cbd7c0.jpg)on his tiny feet, and they looked to be made of leaves and brown leather. He sported a leather jerkin that covered his hips as well. He looked like a tiny, downtrodden warrior.

“I’ve officially gone crazy. I’m holding a fey creature in my hand. I’ve lost my godsdammned mind. This is my life now.” You were muttering quietly to yourself, wondering if you were still somehow asleep and this was all some really weird dream where you could feel pain.

He creased his brow at you, cocking his head curiously.

“Sorry little guy, you’re freezing. Let’s get you inside. Sanity be damned, where are my manners?” You kept your voice soft, trying to reassure him that you wouldn’t hurt him. He seemed to already sense that, though.

You shut the door and went into the living room. His leathers were soaked, and you set him down to grab your scrap fabric basket. Aha! You grabbed some dark green flannel. It was warm, thick, and dry. Perfect! You sat down next to the table where you’d stood him, and showed him the fabric. He got the idea and took off his armor.

It was smaller than most doll clothes, you noted dizzily. Were you hallucinating? Was this some weird dream? Ah, in any case, you wanted him to be comfortable. He took the square of flannel and wrapped himself up in it, taking care with his folded wings.

“So, little cutie, do you have a name?” You ask gently, giving him a warm smile.

He blinks a few times, as if stupefied. “N… no… She told me I didn’t need a name.”

“What?”

“I just wanted to sit on her shoulder, and she swatted me out of the air.” The words tumbled out, and the tears returned. “She left me out there, and I couldn’t get home. So… I followed the green light, and found you!” He beamed up at you, eye sockets somehow closing, crinkling at the corners with emotion.

You sat back, thinking about all of this. “Green light?”

“Yeah!” He blinked up at you, hopefully. “It was pretty, and I…”

“Wait, so…” You sighed. “So, is this a dream or something?”

He cocked his head at you again. You felt that little warmth in your stomach unfurl from the cuteness. “I don’t… think so?”

You smiled despite yourself. You got up, going into the kitchen to look for something suitable to feed him. “Do you eat? What are you, anyway? Agh, I have so many questions…”

“Sugar?”

You turned slowly, eyes wide and suspicious. “What did you call me?”

He shook his head vehemently. “I like sugar! I’m sorry!” His cheekbones were dusted lime. He was blushing.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh, you’re okay. Just surprised me.” You turned back to your cabinets. You couldn’t just give him straight-up sugar. After a moment’s reflection, you came up with an idea. “So, I’ll make you a deal, tiny Fae. You can have something sugary if you will also take some herbs. It should help you calm down as well as restore your body some energy. Will… your wing be okay?”

He shrugged under the flannel, tiny bone feet poking from under. Gods, you could just melt from the cuteness overload! “It might heal on its own, but I’m not sure. I guess I’m lucky it didn’t just come off.”

You felt that tug on your heartstrings again. “Okay, well. Sugary treat, but only if you can manage some herbs, okay? I promise it will make you at least sleep better.”

He nodded. “I trust you.” He bundled himself up tighter in the flannel, taking care with the pressure against his wings.

You sighed and turned back to your herb-drying closet. Some of those were still fresh. You’d just hung them that morning. Lavender, yes. Lavender would calm his nerves… and… ah! You found some dandelion root in the back. It worked much better in tea…

That left sugar. Did you have any fresh fruit? Strawberries! You grabbed the tub of whipped cream and the few ripe strawberries that had come in from the garden. You hurriedly rinsed the strawberries and cut them into smaller pieces.

You took your mortar and pestle and ground up the lavender and dandelion root. Maybe you should add something else in, to cut the bitterness? Eating straight up herbs was no treat, after all. Didn’t you still have some mint tea? You hurried to boil the water, making yourself a cup of mint tea, added the other herbs you’d ground, and when it was steeped and properly sweetened, you poured a bit into a cough-syrup cup. It was the best you had for now.

The two of you ate sugared strawberries on the couch until the tea was cool enough to drink, and he drank about a quarter of the liquid from his bucket-sized cup. While you finished your tea, the tiny creature curled up on your thigh, covering himself with the flannel, and went to sleep.

You sighed into your cup. If this was a dream, you had to admit, it was better than the alternatives. Afraid to wake him, you slept sitting up on your couch, listening to the purr-like snore emanating from the tiny frame on your leg.

 

* * *

 

You hadn’t been aware you were so ticklish. Perhaps it was the mischievous giggle that accompanied the feeling on your palm that made you giddy. Your eyes opened, and the small creature let out a triumphant and endearing noise.

You sighed. “You’re still here.” You were actually pretty happy about that. It meant you weren’t alone in this empty cottage in the middle of nowhere, even if you were crazy.

He was still wrapped in the flannel, grinning innocently up at you. “You little cinnamon roll.” You giggled, poking a finger playfully at him. He grabbed your fingertip and the flannel fell away. He laughed and tugged on your finger. You let him pull your hand, pretending his might was unparalleled.

“Are you planning on staying here?” You asked. “I understand that you don’t want to go back to the people who hurt you, but was there a place you were before that?”

He shook his head. “No home.” He looked up at you with those glowing green dots. “But I like you. Can I please stay here? I’ll help you any way I can! I promise!”

You chuckled and brushed the crown of his head with your fingertip. He let out a joyous giggle and reached for your fingertip again. “Sure thing, little guy.” You said, and he spread his wings in excitement, barely wincing when the injured one moved.  
You thought for a moment before adding, “But if you’re gonna stay with me, you need a name.” You winked at him and he danced around, still holding your finger above his head. “Hmm, you know what? You remind me of something. Can I call you Sparx?”

He perked up a bit more, wings moving slightly before the painful cringe made him settle down more. “I like it! What do I call you?” You hesitated. You hadn’t gotten that far. He must have noticed your hesitation, as he tugged on your finger again to get your attention. “Sugar?”

Again, you jolted. “Ehh?”

He blushed. “’Cause you’re sweet!”

You blushed back. “I… guess that works.”

He cocked his head again. “What do I remind you of?”

You giggled. “When I was younger, I played a game about a dragon with a friendly and helpful dragonfly companion. The dragonfly was named Sparx. He changed colors depending on his health. One of those colors was green.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Well, I’m always this color.”

You laughed. “Yeah, that’s fine.” You had a thought. “So, what are you? You’re not a Faerie, are you?”

He shook his head. “Not entirely. I left my home because I was different. None of the others looked like…” he stared at his bones. “They didn’t treat me too differently, but…”

“It sucks to not fit in.” You agreed. “There were no others like you?”

“Not yet, I guess. Da wasn’t a fairy, so he couldn’t stay there. I left to find him, and that’s when that lady found me. She said she’d read about things like me, and that I was a status symbol.”

“And she turned around and hurt you. What a Grade A cunt.” You muttered under your breath. “Hey, if we’re ever out and you see her, point her out so I can beat the hell out of her.”

He giggled. “Yes, Sugar.”

You still weren’t sure what you thought of that name. It seemed kind of inappropriate. “How old are you, anyway?”

He looked thoughtful for a moment and then shrugged. “A few moons?”

“Oh gods be damned, you’re literally a baby.”

He looked offended. “Am not! I’m just… not fully grown.”

“And when do you suppose you’ll be fully grown?”

He flicked his uninjured wing. “I don’t know.”

You sighed. “Well, I guess I need to take stock of what I’ll need to get to take care of you.” You prayed that business would pick up again soon. He looked around curiously. He then looked at himself, remembered he was naked, and pulled the flannel around him like a cloak again, folding his wings down. “First thing’s first, let’s get you something with ginger in it. I could go for some more tea, how about you?”

He nodded happily and put one of his arms up, reaching for your face. His meaning was obvious, but it still took a moment for you to react, gently gripping him and, after a moment’s indecision, settling him on your left shoulder. He squealed in joy and looked around again as you got up. “It’s almost like flying again.” He spoke quietly, reverently. “It must be scary to be big.”

You chuckled. “Naw, I’m pretty sure it’s scarier to be so small.”

The two of you playfully bickered back and forth over who should be afraid while you made the tea and breakfast. Afterward, you settled down on the couch, sewing basket to your side, and began digging through your scrap-fabric basket, looking for anything that would work for clothing for him.

“Feel this? Is it comfortable for you?” You asked it more than once. Silk was too cold and slid around too much on his bones. Satin was way too stiff. Cotton was too thin, wool too thick. Luckily, you had more flannel. It was no heavier than his leathers, you mused.

You took care to measure the fabric over him, and then to plan for a way to not restrict or brush against his wings. You still had some tiny clasps, but were concerned he wouldn’t be able to hook and unhook them on his own. You settled for gluing tiny, tiny pieces of Velcro, hoping it would work.

You began sewing the shirt after you had the design properly cut, and were immensely relieved that it fit perfectly, if a bit loosely. Growing room. As for pants, you were limited to some stretch-knit polyester in a dark charcoal color. He said it was comfy enough, to your delight. You weren’t sure how long to make them—and then realized you didn’t know how to make shoes for him.

“You get cold easily, don’t you?” You asked.

“Not really. Just… sometimes.”

You sighed. That wasn’t entirely helpful, but for someone only a few months old, how could you blame him? It wasn’t like he knew from past experience. And that begged the topic: “So, how do they age, where you came from? You’re the most… intelligent being so young that I’ve met.”

He grinned and blushed at the compliment as he pulled on the newly sewn pants, apparently approving that they were a bit shorter, and replied, “Well, from birth, we are raised to never let someone get the better of us.” He sighed. “They said that humans are cruel and if they see a Faerie, they’ll do something terrible like pull our wings off, if we don’t remain in control of the situation.” He looked away. “I thought maybe it would be different, but…” then he looked back at you. “But _you’re_ different! You’re nice, you wouldn’t do that to me!”

You grinned. “I’d rather die.” His naiveté, charming as it was, scared you.

 

* * *

 

You told Sparx that since no one was coming by without calling first, probably, a nice little field-trip was in order. You needed wi-fi, anyway, and to grab some bare necessities while you were out. You packed up your laptop and settled it in your satchel with your wallet and other little necessities, like your knitting needles and some very fine yarn.

You put on a [croptop ](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/de/43/b1/de43b19d2d6429544e8a50408d81ee64.jpg)you were particularly fond of, some black [capris](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/c9/d2/da/c9d2da14c654b1c928bba1c5ae412f5c.jpg), since it was still warm and very rainy outside, your [boots](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/a9/e5/98/a9e598788cfdd61dbde2c40179f685e1.jpg), the [coat](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/36/bf/ed/36bfedd4e048aa5f43a5e72a3ce976d1.jpg) that practically screamed “Modern Pirate,” and your black tricorne hat. You asked him if he wanted to ride on the hat’s brim, and he excitedly climbed your hair and onto it, little wings flapping occasionally.

“Maybe while we’re out, we can get something sweet to share. Like some ice cream or a parfait.” You tempted him, as if he needed any more eagerness.

 

 

Parfait in hand, you and Sparx sat down in a booth and you pulled out your laptop. You googled some patterns for doll clothes, particularly hoods, socks, and gloves. You were disappointed that there were so few results. You’d have to play it by ear, you realized dismally.

Well, you certainly could have done worse for yourself. Your tiny friend was certainly willing to help you in your endeavors.

After a moment’s thought, remembering Sparx had said the woman who hurt him had called him a status symbol, you googled tiny skeletons, and found that they were indeed a craze currently, though the ones for local adoption didn’t have wings.

“I might need to stop by there, see if there’s anything relevant to your health I can learn.” You told him. He looked uncomfortable. “Are you okay?”

“I’m scared.” He said, and you made a pitiful noise and did your best to carefully hug him.

“Don’t be. I won’t let anyone hurt you. Or take you from me, for that matter.”

He nodded. “I trust you, Sugar.” He still looked uneasy. “It’s just… they… are pets? Am I a pet?” He looked crestfallen.

You reflected on this for a moment. “You’re whatever you want to be, Sparx. I don’t understand this, really—today’s the first I’ve seen of it.”

You were in the car on the way to the address the website had shown, where the “Bitties” were up for adoption. Your phone began to ring, and you yelped from the surprise, managing to answer the phone just before the other party gave up. “Yes? Hello?” You huffed into the cell.

“I went to pick up the collar, and you’re not home?” The confused voice replied.

“OH! I’m sorry, I’m… actually on my way home right now. I’m very sorry about that.”

“It’s okay, umm. So you’ll be here before it starts raining again?”

“Yes, I’m just a few minutes away.” You lied, turning the car illegally and driving much too fast. “I’ll be there in just a few minutes! Thank you for your patience.” You ended the call and then realized how fast you were going. Oh, gods, you were glad there wasn’t a cop around, or you could kiss that payout goodbye. You slowed the car a bit, and answered Sparx’s questions about why you were suddenly intent to go home.

You told him there were things to do, and there was always tomorrow to visit. He did seem relieved to not have to go, anyway, so you were satisfied that maybe things had worked out well today.

 

* * *

 

You didn’t get back out for a few more days, because business was actually picking back up again.

Your daily ritual didn’t change too much, admittedly. You woke up, sorted out what needed to be done that day, work wise, and then cast your circle, danced the same dance again, and then sat down to work on the ribbons and whatever else had been commissioned.

At first, Sparx was hesitant to speak or move, afraid to break your concentration. However, he stared at you curiously, head cocked, eyes glittering with curiosity and admiration. He waited until after you finished to ask his question. It was adorable that he was so considerate, but you were quick to assure him that you could, indeed, talk while working. In fact, you encouraged him to.

The rest of the day was filled with cooking, sharing tea and laughs, gardening, and, in the evening, dancing. His sockets had been filled with stars and curiosity when you pulled out a large booklet of CDS and began to leaf through the pages, looking for something specific.

You taught him how to use the buttons on the stereo, and introduced him to the world of human music. You started with serene mixes, things that were nice to stretch to. Though he had no muscles, he imitated your stretches. It was so sweet a gesture that it made you want to cry a little.

After that, you asked him if he knew how to dance. His wings fluttered a bit, making a noise that sounded like distress. You’d noticed he’d do that in lieu of shrugging. “We did it sometimes, but…” He trailed off.

“Well, you gon’ learn.” You said cheerily, popping in one of your favorite mixes. It was what you listened to when you needed to cheer up, or when you needed to encourage positive energy to stick and negative energy to retreat. Why smudge when you could deafen unfriendly presences?

Sparx was startled by the extreme change in tempo, but as he saw you dancing, laughing, he quickly began moving along, too. His laughter was the most infectious little noise. He wheezed with it, making tiny squeaking noises when he couldn’t produce noise anymore.

That night after dinner, the two of you settled down with more tea. The conversation inevitably turned to the Green Light he’d mentioned before. “It happens when you dance, and when you do the ribbons.” He tried to explain. You felt that it made sense, considering how he looked at you when you did either of those things.

“Why don’t I see it?”

He shrugged his wings. “Maybe it’s ‘cause I’m little.”

“Maybe…” You agreed, and the two of you headed to bed.


	2. On Days Like These...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are a witch with a reputation, commonly known around town as Buccaneer, or Bux for short, for your roguish remarks and odd fashion sense... but more recently, you've been called Sugar. How will your new little friend affect your business and interactions in town?
> 
> You and Sparx visit the Bitty Adoption Center at last! However...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit, guys! I had heard that Bitty fics spread like wildfire, but 22 kudos in a few hours? Wow...
> 
> Anyways, stay tuned, cuz it only gets cuter from here! Yay for taking in unloved Bitties who need a green-souled human!

Sparx liked to cuddle into your mane of hair, which you would flip off of your neck to pool above your head on the pillow. You had made him a tiny pillow and blanket—and you usually had trouble disentangling it all from your hair in the morning.

Gods forbid nature calls when he’s still asleep… You’d have to be creative in holding him while getting up to relieve yourself.

You really needed to encourage him to sleep somewhere—literally _anywhere_ else.

The next morning, you realized that most of your commissions were done. “I could go for another parfait, couldn’t you, Sparx?” You asked the sleepy ball of energy. Suddenly much more awake, he nodded eagerly, his wings fluttering. He didn’t wince anymore, so the pain must have at least reached a bearable level, though it hadn’t healed yet.

“Are we going to go to the store-place?” He asked quietly, enthusiasm dampered but not erased.

You nodded. “Just to see if there’s anything worth noting to learn. If you want, you can wear that little cloak I made you, to hide your wings.”

“Just lie and say you left me here with a friend. Lie and say anything. Don’t let them see me.” He whined.

You consoled him. “Okay, okay, I will, I promise.”

“They’ll wanna take me away.” He sobbed.

“Let’s see them try.” You told him, and he smiled and hugged your cheek.

“C-can we listen to some fun music on the way?” He asked, and you smiled.

“Of course. Go choose something while I finish up here.” You answered, letting him climb onto your hand and extending it toward the CD booklet. He bounded eagerly, his wings twitching for balance.

You noticed for the first time that, although you’d been using a huge amount of energy, you didn’t feel tired or aggravated… even when you’d had Psymon, this amount of energy work in a few days would have exhausted you for a week.

You shook off the thought and told Sparx you were going to go put on something appropriate to socialize in, and he nodded, struggling to turn a page in the CD booklet he was searching through. You would have helped him, but he said he could do it, he knew he could.

He wanted to be stronger—and when you asked why, he said it was because he wanted to protect you like you protect him.

You were reminded that you needed to make a list of things to ask the people at the shop. You knew next to nothing about these “Bitty” creatures, and being as how Sparx was apparently a crossbreed, you knew even less.

You jotted down a list of questions, (most notably, what are their lifespans, do they need specific nutritional values to be healthy, how quickly do they heal, how big do they get…) and the list continued to a second page before you knew it. You were trying to figure out how you were going to ask this without admitting you were an owner—especially the one that implied physical damage.

You changed, stuffed the list into your satchel, and went to see Sparx posing victoriously over the CD he wanted. You chuckled when you noticed it was the CD the two of you had danced to. You realized you might have made the tiny Fae a closet J-Pop fan. Seeing him light up as he danced to [Remocon ](https://youtu.be/ggj94NIY0f4)was too cute.

You made a mental note to burn a second copy of the CD when you had a chance, to put in your car.

You had a thought suddenly, and asked him to hold on. You went back to your room and searched through your belt-drawer (yes, that was a thing for you) and found what you were looking for. It buckled snugly around your waist, with a large, comfortable leather pouch on the left hip and a smaller belt at the bottom of it, wrapping around your thigh to keep it still. The [pocket ](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/af/4f/26/af4f26a24182beb23b170c6b2a7cffdf.jpg)was big enough that he could easily hide in it, and no one would know.

People in this town were used to you looking like a pirate, after all, and the pouch resembled a holster at a glance. You were satisfied, and when you explained it to Sparx, he was, too. He rode on your shoulder during the drive, and then retreated to the pouch after you got out of the car. You wrapped your coat around you tighter, and walked briskly into the store.

After a hard look reminded you that you still wore your tricorne, you took it off with a muttered apology, and smiled at the desk clerk, who looked at you curiously. “May I help you?” She asked warily. You were used to this reaction. You grinned roguishly and kept your tone pleasant.

“Yes, you can, actually. I need information on these creatures I learned about.” You suddenly felt nervous again. “Bitties?”

Her eyes lit up and she gestured to the cases to your right. “Oh! That makes sense.” You ignored that. “Here they are, do you know which one you want?”

“Oh, I’m not in the market, so to speak. I might reconsider, but I want to know how they’re cared for, first.”

She nodded excitedly. “I completely understand, and it seriously makes me so happy that you care enough to learn before saddling yourself with the responsibility!”

You chuckled. This girl had no idea. “Anyway, I did some light research, but wanted to get some first-hand answers, you know?” You realized that pulling two pages of questions from your satchel was definitely awkward—so you called the questions to memory, but drew a blank. “Sorry, gimme a minute.” You grumbled.

“Happens to me all the time. I’ll be over here if you need me.” She said and left you in front of the case full of Bitties in a variety of colors, staring up at you curiously. Some were taller than others—and there were some you noticed weren’t made of bone, but fire or water!

“Woah.” You breathed. It was astounding to see so many of the creatures, and you felt a crushing sadness that these lovely, sentient babies were sitting to be viewed by humans. Sitting here to be poked at… If they were anything like Sparx, the constant enclosure would have to be maddening. It almost made you want to cry.

The door opening distracted you, and you turned to see a woman and a crying child of about ten come in. The woman’s face was livid, and in one hand, she held a Bitty by his hood, the small sweater choking him from gravity’s relentless pull. He looked dirty and scared. The child pulled at the woman’s other arm pleadingly. They were blubbering too heavily for you to make out the words, but they seemed to be begging for another chance.

“Excuse me!” The woman spoke in a way that made your skin harden. This was the same kind of woman who would berate a waitress that her ice was too cold in her drink. The same kind of woman who would use a sentient creature as a status symbol. Your hand retreated to your pocket protectively.

You barely heard Sparx when he said, “She’s hurting him!”

You began moving before you realized that you were. You dropped your hat and put that hand under the Bitty. In the same moment, you grabbed the woman’s wrist with the other hand, squeezing hard until she dropped him into your open palm.

He was bigger than Sparx by a couple inches and heavier than you’d anticipated, but your hand didn’t budge from his weight as he went to his knees, sputtering. You were in the woman’s face, your voice low and dangerous. Her eyes met yours and you smiled at the fear.

“Your actions are unnecessarily harsh, regardless of what he’s done.” You growled, fingers still gripping her wrist hard enough you knew she would bruise. Before she could cry out, you threw her hand away and resisted the urge to snap your jaws at her. “You should feel ashamed.” You were throwing what energy you had left at her, and she could feel it, subconsciously, you knew.

The employee stood behind you, watching the scene unfold in something like awe and terror. You exhaled harshly and handed the poor little guy in your hand to her. “What is the problem, here?” She asked.

“This… _monster_ here just assaulted me!” She screamed, pointing at your face. You grinned and clicked your teeth at her. She withdrew her hand immediately.

“She was strangling the poor thing. I merely influenced her to let him breathe, and she happily acquiesced.” You said calmly, grin ever-present. You could feel Sparx laughing against your hip. That made you smile wider.

The girl gave you an amused look and quickly disguised it under a professional mask. She looked back at the woman. “How may I help you, today?” Despite her efforts, you could hear the edge to her tone, especially when she looked back at the creature in her hands. He was still rubbing at where his throat would be, looking on as everyone talked. He seemed calm, or perhaps resigned.

“This one is broken. I want one that isn’t broken.”

You saw the fire in the girl’s eyes and you chuckled in spite of yourself. You positioned yourself so she couldn’t lunge for the woman without bumping into you first. She glanced at you, then flushed. Back to the bitch and her still-sniveling child. “How is he broken? I can’t see any damage under all the dirt on him.”

You held your breath in an attempt to not get carried away with the energy.

The little guy in her hand spoke. “I just wanted a drag.”

“What?” You asked, leaning closer.

“I wanted to hit the cigarette.” He said.

The woman indignantly yelled over him. “I was not informed they come with disgusting habits! They are pets, and should be a blank slate when I buy them!”

“Ma’am they aren’t commercialized goods.” The employee remarked flatly. “They’re sentient. With personalities.”

You butted in. “Additionally, the habit is just as disgusting on you—he at least has the reprieve of a moral compass.” You turned and winked at the tiny skeleton. He smirked.

She made a face but seemed unable to speak. You looked at the child, and noticed they didn’t seem afraid of you, or even upset at the way you were speaking to their presumed-mother. They looked up at you in awe.

That was normal when you were dressed up—what kid didn’t want to be a pirate?—but you got the gut-chilling feeling that this kid was amazed to see anyone stand up to this mite-sized woman with a disgusting temperament and repulsive sense of self-entitlement.

Finally the gears clicked in her head, the stars aligned, and her voice came out. “Fine, take the little bastard! He doesn’t deserve a home!” She pointed at the cases. “None of them do! Little fucking parasites!”

You sighed dismally and turned to the employee. “Do you need her for paperwork, or may I politely escort her from your place of work?”

She nodded to the Bitty in her hands. “I have what I need from her. Thank you.”

You chuckled and turned to the woman. She tried to back away from you, but her kid was still behind her, and she turned to yell or push them. You weren’t sure which.

You took the chance and locked your arm in hers. “You know, lady, it’s a beautiful day outside.” You walked forcefully out the door, dragging her with you. Once you were outside, you growled. “Do us a favor and don’t fucking ruin it for everyone, huh?” You let go of her and she stumbled and kept walking. The kid looked at you and you gave them a thumbs up. They turned to run after the woman, and you went back inside.

The employee was behind the desk, her head in her hands, shaking. You approached the counter and she looked up. “Oh, I’m glad you came back. Thank you.”

You grinned. “And no lawsuit, either. Though you might be luckier than you think. Thought for sure she was gonna piss herself.” You snickered. “Funny, I didn’t think I was that scary.”

She grimaced. “I’m going to find the paperwork and drop a tip for someone to investigate that house. I mean… what if she treats her kid like this?” She gestured to the tiny skeleton, who didn’t even fidget from the attention. She groaned and put her head in her hands. “Also, now that he’s here again, I don’t know if anyone will adopt him. Return cases are hard…”

Damn you and your mouth. “Oh, really? I’ll take him.” That wasn’t something you should say, at least not without talking to Sparx first!

She chuckled. “What about all that researching before settling with the responsibility?”

You felt Sparx move around in the pocket, and then poke his head out. “Sugarrr!” He called.

The woman jolted and stared at your hip. Sparx waved shyly at her.

You put aside your momentary shock. He looked up at you expectantly. “Do you want out?” You asked him. He nodded, and you let him climb out of the pocket and onto your hand. He was wearing the cloak, you noted, and had the tiny hood up. He was cuter than ever, and you beamed proudly as you brought him to the counter.

“Oh, wow.” The girl said. “That… makes sense, I guess.” Sparx looked up at her and cocked his head. “My name’s Fran.”

You mentally encouraged him, and he finally spoke. “Sparx.”

“Nice to meet you, Sparx.”

Sparx looked back at you, and then to the Bitty who was sitting in silence on the counter.

Fran glanced at you curiously, but the two of you were quiet as Sparx approached the larger Bitty. The languid one in the dirty orange hoodie was beginning to remind you of an elderly cat of the hefty variety, as he stared just as lazily at Sparx. “Do you have a name?” He asked quietly.

The larger one shrugged and spoke low enough in answer that neither you nor Fran heard. He shoved his hands back into the front pocket of his hoodie.

“If you wanna come home with us, you can.” He said almost matter-of-factly. “But if you’re gonna, you need a name. That’s okay, though, because Sugar is great at giving names!” The larger one looked past Sparx and at you with ill-disguised amusement.

“Sure thing, kid.” He said, loud enough that you and Fran could both hear. Fran sighed with relief. This caught Sparx’s attention, and he looked up at her curiously.

“Hey, little Sparx.” She said quietly. “Do you mind helping me with some stuff?”

He looked up at you nervously. Fran turned her attention back to you and explained. “Since he was returned, and since he might need extra care due to the conditions of his previous living, I need to do some paperwork. That is, if you were serious about wanting to take him home?” She looked so hopeful.

“Of course I was serious.” You said, relieved that Sparx was on board with this. “Yes, let’s do the paperwork, then.”

Sparx nodded excitedly, but still seemed wary of Fran. You understood, and placed your hand on the counter, hoping having something closer would put him at ease.

Fran gathered the papers and you provided the necessary standard information. Name, address, and so on. Fran took a few minutes to write notes about the Bitty in question, and then flipped to another page and added a note. “Alright, Sparx, can you tell me about how well ‘Sugar’ takes care of you?”

You blushed at the name but didn’t try to tell her that humans usually referred to you as Buccaneer, or Bux for short.

Sparx looked hesitantly at you, as if to ask if you’d make sure he was safe, and you nodded to him encouragingly. He took the cloak off and flexed his wings. Fran’s eyes widened substantially and then narrowed to the injury.

“I got hurt by…” He hesitated. “A bad person. I found Sugar and they took me in. They made me take medicine for my wing, and fed me sweets to make up for it. They always involve me in what they do, and when I’m sad or scared they put on fun music so I can dance with them. If I’m scared because there are humans, they let me hide in their pocket, or on their hat—“ you remembered your hat, suddenly, and almost turned to go get it, but knew that if you moved away right now, it would make him panic.

Fran was nodding eagerly, jotting down what he was saying. “You have no idea how much better my boss will feel knowing you can take care of him.”

You nodded. “Understood. Umm, can you… make sure not to put anything on there about Sparx’s wings?”

Sparx jolted and looked up at Fran. “Please?” He added quietly, hands clasped in front of him in a gesture of prayer. She looked first at you, and then at him, and what she saw was obviously heart-wrenching, because she was nodding hard enough you thought she’d get whiplash.

“Of course, little Sparx.” She looked closer at him for a moment. “Would it be impolite to ask where you came from? I’ve never seen a Bitty like you.”

He looked at his feet. You answered for him. “It’s complicated. He doesn’t like talking about it.”

She nodded again. “That’s totally fine.”

“So, now that you know about him, I can ask all of these questions without looking weird.” You said. Sparx climbed your hand, and you set him on your shoulder. “By the way, you get a treat tonight for being so brave.” You told him affectionately. He beamed and hid his face in your hair.

You rummaged in your satchel and pulled out the pages of questions. Fran hitched an eyebrow at you and wrote another note down under what Sparx had told you. “Thorough.” She muttered as she wrote.

The other Bitty got up to come closer to you, looking up at you with mild curiosity. “First off, though…” You addressed him. “What can you tell me about yourself?”

He was quiet for a moment. “Uhh… I like food.”

You snickered. “You’ll certainly fit in. What kinds?”

He looked lost for a moment. “Bread… uh… honey…”

You foresaw learning how to make tiny pancakes and chuckled. “I don’t smoke, you know.” You said. He looked at you, and when Fran was jotting another note down, you winked at him. He grinned. “What do you like to do?”

He shrugged. “Sit around?”

Sparx squirmed on your shoulder, and you felt his uninjured wing brush against your neck. “How old are you?” You asked, trying not to giggle from the sensation.

He shrugged. Fran studied the papers, leafing through them thoughtfully. “Ah! Ten months old.”

“Oh, wow, you’ll be a year old soon.” You said, and marveled again at how young they were. To Fran, you asked. “What kind of… spans do they have?” You were starting to get scared that you would be reliving what happened with Psymon, not knowing things would end so abruptly with so young a friend…

“Don’t worry, they’re almost like lobsters.” She laughed. “They tend to stick around as long as they’re loved.”

You nodded and let out a breath you hadn’t intentionally held. “Okay, next question… How easily do they heal? How quickly? Is there anything I need to do to help them heal?”

Her eyes darted to Sparx and softened. “Well, if Sparx was one of ours, I don’t think he’d be alive to tell about it. Sans-variety Bitties are the most fragile. However, Sparx seems able to survive well enough.” You felt his tiny hand touch your neck reassuringly. “So, I’m not entirely sure...”

She tapped the pen to her lips thoughtfully, and then grinned. “However, Paps-variety Bitties, like this one, are sturdier.” She pointed at your new friend. “They heal pretty quickly as long as they’re fed regularly and get enough sleep. I would assume the same would go for Sparx. If anything further develops, though, please come in and let me or my boss know.”

You sighed. “Good to know…” You studied the list in your hand. “Umm… do they need specific vitamins or anything, nutrition-wise?”

She looked thoughtful. “Huh, that’s the first time someone’s asked me that. Well, milk is a good thing.” You nodded, that made sense. “Other than that, I don’t guess so. Don’t quote me on that, though. When my boss gets back, I can have him call you? He might know.”

You nodded. “That’d be cool. How big do Bitties get?”

She shrugged. “It varies, but they don’t usually grow much larger than they are at a few months. So,” She pointed at your new little friend. “He won’t be getting any bigger… probably.”

As it was, he was big enough that both he and Sparx wouldn’t fit together in the pouch on your hip, you mused. “Are they known to have any kind of allergies?”

Fran shook her head. “Not that I’ve ever heard.”

“And… where can I get things for them? Do I just shop for dollhouse furniture or do you know anywhere that caters directly to this?”

She smiled at you. “Well, we sell some stuff, but other than that, yeah. Dollhouse stuff is basically the way to go. I mean, it sucks that you might not find anything the perfect size for them, but…”

“Do you have any knitting patterns for clothes for them? I looked online, but there was nothing.”

She gaped at you for a moment. “Knitting?” She schooled her expression as you finally went to retrieve your hat from the ground, dusting it off and placing it back on your head.

“Yes, the pirate knits.” You sighed. “And crochets. Lace is a good seller for me.” Another inquisitive look had you explaining your little cottage in the woods, and your practice and business.

“Wow, so… maybe you should make charms and clothes specifically for Bitties!” She said, wriggling from excitement. You were a bit confused and worried by her zeal.

You thought about the idea carefully. “I mean, yeah, I could. I cater to just about everything, why not? I knitted a sweater for a snake once.”

She laughed. “I am sooo telling the other Bitty-owners about you.”

You laughed nervously. “You don’t even know if I do any good.”

She pointed at Sparx, who was still hiding in your hair. “Did you make his clothes?” She picked up the little crushed-velvet cape that he’d left on the counter. “Did you make this?”

Reluctantly, you nodded. “Yeah.”

“Then, yeah, I’m telling everybody I know.” She said victoriously, and handed you the tiny cloak. “Makes me feel much better about sending this guy home with you. You’ll give him some good, clean clothes, too.”

You smiled at the skeleton and offered your hand out. You noticed his tiny tennis shoes and thought of another question. “I’m not really experienced in making shoes. Do you guys sell any?”

When your new friend sat down in your palm, Fran guided you to a small kiosk of tiny ~~choking-hazards~~ accessories. You were disappointed that none of them suited Sparx very well, but he patted your neck and then pointed to one of them. They were tiny pirate boots, looking much like a pair of yours that he’d tried to hide in the other day. You laughed and searched for some that would fit him.

You encouraged your new Bitty to pick some out, but he just shrugged. “Long as it fits, friend.”

You sighed and brought him up to your unoccupied shoulder. He lazily climbed up and then lay down as best he could without falling off—and promptly went to sleep.

“You’re kidding.” You chuckled.

Sparx giggled. “I like him.”

You bought what you could and then went to get groceries. When you got there, you noticed a store you either hadn’t noticed before or it had opened recently. “Leaaather.” You purred and threw the doors open. Gothic apparel everywhere. “Sorry, guys, I have to. I don’t work leather, so…”

Sparx pointed out things excitedly, asking what they were for. Your other shoulder still bore a sleeping Bitty with no desire to wake up. You began laughing heartily when you spotted the perfect [bag](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/4a/88/03/4a8803c6dcdd660227eccf67ee0ac87f.jpg)—it resembled a coffin, was studded in places with small metal skulls. You gave it a thorough look-over. Soft lining, big enough to carry both of them and then some… And you could afford it.

“I’ll take it.” You muttered to yourself and took it to the counter. You moved your little friends onto your hat and carefully pulled the backpack-style straps on. “Okay, guys. I am officially a hearse and I love it.”

Sparx didn’t understand, but your new little friend snorted with appreciation.

Your heart felt immensely light as you left the store to resume the day’s errands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys, thanks for reading! This isn't the end, yet, though! Far from it-- in fact, we might encounter something even cuter in the next chapter.
> 
> Any questions or suggestions? Just want to vent on how cute Sparx is? Throw me some comments!


	3. You Can't Start a Fire Without a Spar(x)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate Chapter Name: Don't make a reference! *How 'bout I do ~anyway~*  
> Alternate Chapter Name: A Bitty by any other Name would still be kind of Sarcastic...
> 
> You are a witch with two tiny Bitties, learning how to adjust your life and business around them. 
> 
> Support your local beekeepers! ^.^

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say thank you to everyone. I wasn't aware this fic would explode like it has O.O  
> Thank you all for your kindness! 
> 
> Umm... just an idea... if you want to ask Bux, Sparx, or any of the other characters any questions, you can leave me an ask on tumblr, and they'll answer ^.^ just make sure to say who the question is for! 
> 
> This chapter has a playlist because reasons! If anyone wants me to update the previous chapter with Sparx's CD playlist, do tell, and I will definitely link it in the next chapter.

When returning home the evening you’d adopted your new little friend, the air was tense for a reason you couldn’t identify. Sparx certainly didn’t notice, as he was trying his best to sing along while breathlessly encouraging his new friend to join him in dancing on the seat of the car.

He politely refused, and then suddenly he’d disappeared. In a panic, Sparx called out, and you felt an odd weight on your right shoulder. “Sup.”

“Fuck!” You squeaked. No one warned you that he could do _whatever the hell he just did_.

“I’m just gonna sit here and watch the road.” He said, ignoring your reaction.

Sparx stared up at the bitty on your shoulder and pouted. “No fair! I can’t fly!”

He shrugged in response and began talking to you. “So what’s your actual name? No offense, but I’m not sure I wanna call you Sugar.”

You nodded in understanding, willing your hands to stop shaking. You’d ask him about this later, you vowed. “Uh, well people call me Buccaneer.” You said softly.

“Got something with fewer syllables?”

“God, you’re lazy.” You grinned. “Bux.”

“Butts?”

“No. Bux.”

“Okay, Butts.”

You screamed internally. “ _Why?_ ”

“You’re a pirate, right? Bet you’re always chasing **dat booty**.” He waited for a moment. “You’re a total **butt-pirate** , aren’t you?”

You ignored him, but you were trying hard not to crack up. “Fine, but that means I’m going to let Sparx name you.”

“Nyeh, how bad could it be?” He laughed softly, but you noticed he seemed less tense now. The air wasn’t as choking as it had been. “Glad you got a sense of humor, Butts.”

You didn’t rise to the bait this time, and to your merit, you didn’t even clench your teeth. In truth, it was kind of endearing.

“So, you don’t smoke, huh?” He drummed on his legs to the beat of the music.

“Nope. But as long as it doesn’t hurt you, you’re free to whatever’s in my garden. Personally, I’m a little curious what catnip will do to you.”

He was silent for a moment. “I see now why you got the name Sugar, Butts. Surprisingly, it’s not because you got a **sweet ass**.”

You tried not to snort. For the most part, it was muffled. You could tell that he was very satisfied with your reaction.

“Hey, Sparx. Can you come up with a name for our little friend, here? You did such a good job coming up with mine.” You said sweetly, and the tiny bitty stopped dancing and nodded vigorously.

“You can count on me!” He said proudly.

Next to your ear, quietly, you heard. “He’s too cute.”

You nodded in agreement. Sparx was singing random syllables along to the Japanese music. You would have to teach him the lyrics. “Wish I had his energy.” You grumbled as Sparx continued to dance wildly around.

“You should!” A tiny peep emitted from the dancing skeleton. “I share my energy with you all day!”

On your shoulder you felt the bitty sit down, staying out of the conversation in favor of listening with a feigned look of disinterest.

Sparx's words left you pondering, your face clenching with concentration as you stared at the road. Come to think of it, you had felt the same bond of Familiar to Witch, hadn’t you? That’s what had woken you up that night… it wasn’t just the sound that reminded you of mewing, was it? You had _felt_ a Familiar.

“I’m going to make you a [witch’s hat](https://www.etsy.com/listing/185300231/wide-brim-witch-hat-wizard-hat-fantasy?ref=related-0) and it’s going to be so fucking cute.” You said under your breath. “It’s gonna be green and…” You trailed off, getting more and more ideas for things to make for Bitties.

“I need a new name for my business.” You realized, pulling up the dirt road that lead to your home. “Charms for your Fur Friends doesn’t really cut it anymore…”

Sparx climbed onto your hand and sang, “How about Sunrise Land?”

You giggled. On your shoulder, a sleepy, impartial voice said, “Bux N Bones.”

Silence. Sparx had stars in his eyes when he looked up at the yawning Bitty. “Go with that! It’s cuter and has a pun!”

Your little buddy on your shoulder realized that he was in a pun-appreciative zone and you thought for a second that you saw him grin just a bit brighter.

 

* * *

 

Your evening was spent making a simple shirt and pants for him to lounge in until you could wash or replace his other outfit, since he seemed partial to the hoodie. You studied the tiny coat, trying to piece together in your head what a pattern for it would resemble.

While you sewed the clothes, Sparx talked to him while he bathed in some hot water you’d poured into a bowl. If he’d seemed lazy earlier, now you were beginning to worry if he was just dead. Other than little nods and the occasional noise to tell Sparx he was still listening, the Bitty didn’t move or speak.

To be fair, you had lathered him up in lavender soap, so he was likely just unwinding. “Don’t let him fall asleep in the tub, okay?” You told Sparx.

When he was done bathing, you fetched a hand towel and helped him dry off before handing him the clothes to dress himself.

“Do you like tea?” You asked. “I need to make some that will boost Sparx’s ability to heal, and you’re welcome to have some if you’d like.” You paused, “Uh… also have coffee around here, too. Somewhere.”

He shook his head. “That’s fine as long as you can put some sugar in it.” He said at last. “Or honey.”

You nodded adamantly and went to the pantry. Didn’t you have some of that really nice clover honey? There should still be some left, right? Hidden in the cabinet above the stove, you found the little plastic straws full of honey from local beekeepers and sighed happily.

You grabbed one and brought it to them. “Think you two can share this while I make the tea?”

“What is this?” Sparx asked, grasping one side of the straw and staring into it in fascination.

“It’s honey, but with grape nectar mixed in, if memory serves.” You said. “I get them every year. Forgot I stored some away.”

The two of them looked up at you with stars in their sockets. You chuckled. “Like I said, share and be nice while I—”

Your new little friend settled his teeth on the plastic end nearest him and gnashed his jaws on it in a desperate attempt to open it.

“Wait!” Sparx said, and pointed at your sewing basket. “You’ll make a mess. Get one of Sugar’s pins and we can poke a hole the perfect size!”

He stared at Sparx for a moment before disappearing and reappearing on your sewing basket, rummaging through it desperately. You shook your head and went to make tea.

When you came back to check on them, he was covered in honey, licking it off of himself while laughing heartily. Sparx was still enjoying what was left in the tube, giggling sweetly at his friend’s antics.

Sparx looked up at you. “Honey needs another bath.”

The newly-dubbed Honey looked first at Sparx and then at you. “Naw, really?”

You weren’t sure if it was the bath or the name he was protesting.

He went back to furiously licking himself clean and you laughed. “Like a little cat.” You remarked. “Except cats can’t taste sweet things.”

“Honey Cat!” Sparx cheered.

“Oh, look, Honey, you got a middle name.” You jested.

He looked up at you with playful indignation. “Up yours, Butts.”

You snorted.

After yet another bath, you dressed Honey in something comfortable enough to sleep in, and you tried to figure out sleeping arrangements. You managed to convince Sparx that sleeping in your hair was not a good idea, and that there were a million places he could sleep instead. Like on your chest, or literally anywhere.

Sparx was very accommodating, and so you ended up with a sleepy skeletal fae creature nestled against your sternum, wrapped up like a little burrito in the blanket you’d made him. Honey tried to say he could sleep elsewhere, perhaps on the couch, but you rejected that plan.

He ended up curled up on your stomach, your hand over him like a blanket.

It was different. You were used to this kind of thing, thanks to Psymon, but… it was different.

But at least it wasn’t as painful as having nothing at all.

 

* * *

 

Your day to day routine didn’t change that much from Honey’s introduction, surprisingly enough. He watched your activities from the sidelines, and then occasionally you’d look over and notice his absence. He’d always reappear with a bit of catnip shoved in his pocket.

Honey _Cat_ indeed. He loved catnip even more than Psymon had. He’d take a bit of it and make tiny cigarettes from it. You weren’t sure how it worked at all for him, but he would smoke it and then walk around, exploring every nook and cranny of your small house.

After a day or two, he asked to explore the garden. You gave him free reign, telling him you trusted him to be safe and not run off. He just smiled and waved at you in thanks before disappearing.

“So, I wonder.” You said to Sparx. “Do all Bitties have powers?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know if I have a power…”

“Heh, well if you discover one, you’d better tell me, okay?” You teased him, brushing the top of his head with a fingertip.

He giggled sweetly and nudged your finger like a tiny cat.

 

* * *

 

The days passed peacefully, with you and Sparx working on the normal charms, as well as your experimental delving into making Bitty accessories. What was most important was functionality and practicality. Dollhouse accessories and clothes were cute and all, but if it didn’t work or wasn’t comfortable to wear or use, what use was it?

You mused that making beds and other furniture would be awesome, but every time you tried, it didn’t turn out right. It would come across as cheap-looking and flimsy, and it was overall just not good to look at. You couldn’t take pride in those experiments, so you regretfully quit.

Honey had been exploring farther and farther out, into the forest that devoured part of your property. The trees offered an amazing amount of hiding spots, and Honey was especially fond of exploring the woods when it rained.

You eventually had to make him a rainproof cloak and spats for his shoes.

 

It was yet another rainy evening. You and Sparx were finishing up the last of the knitted hoods, and Sparx noted that Honey hadn’t returned yet. At first you weren’t worried. He’d come home late a few times before… but Sparx saying it made you wonder what he felt that you couldn’t.

“You think he’s hurt, or something?” You asked softly. 

“Bux!” You heard, and turned to the door to find Honey. He wasn’t wearing his cloak—instead, it was wrapped tightly around another Bitty in his arms. “Blowdryer!”

You didn’t question it, and Sparx held on for dear life as you shot to your feet and grabbed the blowdryer from the bathroom, plugging it in as Honey appeared on the countertop panting. He handed you the bundle and collapsed. Sparx hopped down to check on Honey while you peeled the rainproof garment away from the shivering creature in your hand.

Dull flames flickered. His clothes were damp despite his warmth, and you realized it was one of the tiny fire Bitties you had been so fascinated with when you'd gone to the shop.

You looked at Honey. “Wont this extinguish him?”

He didn’t respond. He was already asleep.

The Bitty in your hand shivered again and you reached at him with your other hand. “Hey, little guy. Let’s get these wet clothes off of you. Sparx!”

Sparx climbed up your arm deftly and settled on your shoulder again. “Honey’s okay. He just needs some rest.” He assured you, and you turned your attention to the flickering, shivering creature in your palm. 

You thought about what to do desperately. You were beginning to tear up from the stress. What if you couldn’t save him?

You thought you heard something from your hand. You moved your face closer. “What was that, little guy?”

“Fire?”

You set Sparx and the tiny flame on your kitchen counter. “Sparx, undress him. I’m going to get a candle.”

You scrambled for your favorite non-scented candle. It was big, dark green, and had three wicks. Then you were tasked with finding a match. Or a lighter. Where were they? They were supposed to be right—

“Sugar!” Sparx called. The tiny flame Bitty was lighting the candle himself, standing in the center of the three wicks as they flickered to life. You rushed over to check on him, nearly startling him to death.

“Sorry! Sorry…” You tried to calm down, not wanting to frighten him. His face was upturned, but you didn’t see any features. He made grabby hands at Sparx, who rummaged in the pile of damp clothes and pulled out a pair of scratched spectacles. The Bitty put them on and looked up at you again.

“I’m okay. Thank you.” He said at last, shaking wax off his bare feet before climbing out of the candle and laying down on the counter.

Sparx looked from him to you. “Sugar, do you have anything left over from dinner?”

You didn’t ask questions, just went with the flow and rummaged in the fridge. A few minutes later, you were watching the tiny flame eat homemade meat sauce from the spaghetti.

You let out a squeak when you remembered that Honey was asleep in wet clothes, all alone in the other room. You sprinted to the bathroom and picked him up. He sighed blissfully when you pressed his chilled frame to your chest, and you winced at the cold.

When you returned, Sparx and the flame were chatting quietly. You pulled a chair up to the counter and sat there, cradling Honey to your chest.

The newcomer looked at you again and Sparx spoke for him. “He’s like me, Sugar. He doesn’t have anywhere to go.”

You sighed. “He can stay. I’m just glad he’s okay.” You looked at him. “You _are_ okay, aren’t you?”

The tiny flame nodded shyly.

Sparx flickered his wings. It was something he’d done a lot when just dancing around from happiness wouldn’t cut it. This time, it was all that gave his joy away. He spoke again, to the flame Bitty this time. “Sugar will help you! They take care of Honey and I all the time. You’re safe here!”

You looked down at the little ember. “I’m going to make you something to wear to sleep in. Is there anything you can’t wear? Do you need flame-proof clothes?”

He shook his head after a moment and pointed at the pile of wet clothes. You grabbed them with the hand that wasn't clutching Honey to your heart and nodded. “I’ll clean these, too.” You said. “How would you like some tea?”

Honey chuckled against your hand. “Always with the tea.”

“Hey, it’s a good way to calm down! I feel safest with a cup of tea and a warm blanket.”

The flame Bitty made a tiny noise that, after a moment’s confusion, you identified as laughter.

You grabbed another straw of nectar-honey, pricked it with a needle, and set it down with all three Bitties. You had found tiny bowls somewhere a few days ago, and they used these now to gather enough honey to leisurely enjoy, passing one of them to the tiny flame.

“Sugar, can you play some music?” Sparx pleaded after you put some water on to boil.

You looked at the newcomer, “Maybe the [peaceful mix](https://youtu.be/yCk9xnmIA4Q?list=PLhzv9ei369KmFj8LLV0Cgc7w_9hHq4C98).” You said.

You switched the CDs out and hit play, before exploring your herb cabinet. You turned back to the Bitties, and spoke to the little flame. “Any pain? Complaints?”

He shook his head, but Honey surprised you by speaking for him. “He’s hurting, but he just needs rest. Grillbitties don’t do well with water.”

You nodded. “Anything you’d suggest?”

He rummaged in his hoodie pocket and pulled out a catnip cigarette. Amiably, he offered it to the Bitty. You gave a huff of laughter and returned to the cabinet, looking for things that felt warm and comforting.

“At this rate, I’m going to have to stock up on tiny dressers and…” You laughed to yourself. No one paid any mind to your audible thoughts, though. Sparx and Honey were talking to the newcomer, explaining how things worked here, sharing experiences.

At some point, Sparx got up and spread his wings. The tear was bridged over with tiny little webs of green magic, but you’d told him to take it easy in case it wasn’t strong enough to support his weight yet.

He approached the corner of the counter now and called for you. When you came over, he looked excited, if the constant flicking of his wings and his shuffle from foot to foot was any indication.

“He says he likes the pretty music. He also says he wants to help us!”

“Help?”

“Y’know! He wants to light the candles for you and… and… make things!” He moved his arms in wide arcs, trying to illustrate what he couldn’t articulate.

You chuckled at his enthusiasm. You had noticed that the more excited he got, the more limited his vernacular became. If he got too ardent, he would just jump up and down shouting “Um! Um!” until he could find the words that eluded him.

“He’s offering to pull his weight?” You provided.

He nodded vigorously. “Honey offered to name him, too.”

“Oh, no.”

You went to investigate the two Bitties who were laughing together.

Honey gestured to the Bitty. “His name is Ghayth.”

You cocked your head. That hadn’t been expected. You had expected something… more sarcastic or biting.

Ghayth looked up at you. “It means ‘Rain’.” He said, just loud enough to be audible. His tone was wry, but contrite.

 _This is my life, now._ You thought as you face-palmed. “Honey, you little saucebox!” You cried out. Ghayth and Honey exchanged glances as you doubled over from laughter.

The kettle began to whistle and you hurried to remove it from the heat. You expected that noises that were loud for you were unbearable for tinier creatures, so you wanted to spare them the pain.

You poured the water over the blackberry teabag and the herbs you had picked out and grabbed the jar of honey from the top shelf. You waited for it to steep, gathering the tiny cups you’d managed to find recently.

You turned to the counter again and peered down at Ghayth, unable to erase your smile. “So Sparx told me you want to help out?”

He nodded adamantly. Honey spoke up again. “He doesn’t like talking very much. He’s very quiet. We can hear him, but it’s difficult for him to be loud enough for you to understand.”

That explained a bit. You stooped down to look at him. “That’s perfectly fine, tiny friend. We can talk about this tomorrow after you’ve rested, okay? If you need anything special, don’t hesitate to tell me, even if it’s through Honey or Sparx.”

Ghayth nodded again and you went to thumb through your scrap basket. At last you found something relatively thin and soft and brought it to Ghayth. The others knew the drill by now, and offered him encouragement when he got shy.

“Is it comfortable enough for you to sleep in?” You asked, and smiled at him when he nodded.

You quickly cut a basic nightgown-shaped pattern and stitched it while standing next to the stove. You glanced at the tea periodically to see how much it had darkened, and when you were satisfied, you strained the herbs out, removed the tea bag, and sweetened it with the honey.

You placed a paper towel on the counter next to the trio before returning to the cup of tea. You dunked the three tiny mugs into the cup and set them on the paper towel. Honey grabbed one for him and one for Ghayth while Sparx euphorically grasped his and plopped down on the edge of the countertop, wings flailing as he kicked his legs.

You grabbed your own cup and made a “Cheers” motion to the others. Honey and Ghayth returned the gesture, appearing amused by it. Sparx was too busy humming happily to the music to notice anything else, his sockets closed in bliss, smile wide and endearing, a light blush of lime dusting his cheekbones.

You finished making the garment while you drank your tea, and then offered it to him to try on. He was satisfied with it, and you were beyond relieved to see it didn’t turn to cinders at his touch.

You all migrated to the bedroom after tea, and while the two tiny skeletons took their usual places on your sternum and stomach, Ghayth looked unsure. He settled in the crook of your neck after a while.

In the quiet of the night, just as you were beginning to fade into unconsciousness, lulled by the tiny crackling and pleasant warmth, you heard that tiny voice rasp, “Thank you, Love.” before he nuzzled closer and fell asleep himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't the end, I promise! But it will take me a little while to get back to this fic. My main fic, Soul-Searcher, is back in full swing, and the plot is thickening. I want to devote as much energy to it as possible, so I'm not sure when the next chapter of this will come out. 
> 
> Can't get enough of Sparx, Honey, and Ghayth? Drop by my tumblr and leave them an ask!  
> http://zaiyofics.tumblr.com/


	4. We All Have Our Talents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As requested by The_S_S_Selfindulgence: How did Honey find Ghayth?
> 
> Also, fluff, as always. And some startling revelations about Sparx. You ready for this?
> 
> (*points into the shadows* I think the plot is this way! Follow me, watch your step.)
> 
> Edit: 7/27/16  
> NOW WITH LINKS FOR TINY CABINETS. Sorry about that, they got left out when I put the chapter up.  
> They can all be found on 13moons.com. And yes, each of those five words leads to a different picture. I apologize if you're on mobile! ^.^'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had the worst case of writer's block during this tbh. Hopefully I don't have that problem anymore hereafter.
> 
> My lovely friend and partner in crime, Jai, did sum fanarts of the Sparx!:  
> http://summerbxy.tumblr.com/post/147924798877/a-quick-sketchy-sparx-concept-for-zaiyofics
> 
> There are now adoptables of Fae!Sans, made by this sweetheart: AjaDeiDeidy  
> http://ajadeideidy.tumblr.com/post/147715227649/now-u-can-finally-adopt-those-faerie-bitties
> 
> Also, thanks to RoxasConan who dubbed Bux's business as such:  
> "Bux n' Bitty Bits - Buff Your Bitties Here!"  
> This is canon. It will be on a sign somewhere. I love it so much.
> 
> This chapter features a drawing of mine I did on what I headcanon Bux to look like. It's perfectly fine if you imagine Bux differently. I encourage that, honestly, but this is what I picture when I write about them. ^.^

Honey gnawed the mint leaf he’d grabbed and stepped into the forest, teleporting to where he’d left off the previous evening. His pace was languid and he hummed that annoying song that Sparx had been insisting he learn with him. He grinned despite himself. His winged friend was so exuberant that he frequently had to carry everyone else on his tiny shoulders.

Metaphorically, of course. Honey was still concerned that Sparx was much more fragile than he let on.

He stalked deeper into the forest, and looked out for any large landmarks (other than the trees)—and any sign of life other than his own.

After all, this wasn’t a pleasant walk. This wasn’t something he necessarily enjoyed doing.

He stopped when he heard a noise and teleported to a low-hanging branch above him, hugging the trunk and looking for the source of the noise. A deer strolled by a few yards off, and Honey berated himself for being so on-edge.

He couldn’t help but notice that he felt no less uneasy, though.

See, Honey had a bit of a talent for finding trouble—or rather, that it seemed to love to be found around him. For a few days, he’d agonized on how he could use that to his advantage—to _your_ advantage. At last it came to him. If anything or anyone wanted to trouble you, he would be the first to know—and what better way to repay your kindness than to help you protect your walled-up little world that you’d so sweetly shared with them?

 _Heh, “Sugar” really fits, huh?_ He’d really lucked out, considering he probably wouldn’t have found a second home otherwise.

You had given him a freedom that most owners didn’t afford their Bitties. You were trusting, and… Well, hell, he couldn’t really _not_ appreciate it.

With this in mind, he set off further into the forest, warping from branch to branch, looking around, mapping out the woods in his mind.

The feeling in the air, thick and heavy, warned him well before the first raindrop fell. He wrapped the rainproof cloak around himself and kept walking, trying not to stumble when large, fat drops would strike him. It was warm enough out here that he didn’t have to worry about freezing, but still, the air was heavy and hard to breathe.

That little sense that told him something was happening spoke up, and he listened intently. Nothing. He tried to relax, but that little danger-warning in his head was going off, like rapid-fire.

He looked around and saw something on the ground. A Bitty, he discovered almost immediately. He warped down to the little guy and took stock of the situation.

A Grillbitty. In the rain. Honey noted that he’d been out here for a while, taking shelter under the leaves and underbrush. He was shivering, soaked to the bone, almost, but still holding on. His fire was still burning, and Honey marveled at his strength of will.

Quickly, he took off the waterproof cloak and came forward. The Grillbitty let out a startled noise, voice choked and tired. Honey didn’t pay any attention. “Don’t be an idiot, I’m gonna save your sorry ass.” He said, wrapping the cloak around the pyre.

“Now stay still and hold onto me.” He said, hefting the Bitty into his arms and Warping as far home as he could. Large distances were a hassle, even more so with a burden—but Honey knew that time was of the essence.

It still took a few minutes, as the distance he’d covered was quite expansive. When he was in the back yard, he tried crying out, hoping that you were out tending the garden, or perhaps looking for him. But no, you were probably still inside.

He had enough energy to warp again, didn’t he? He would have to. He managed to get through the door, and called for you desperately. His relief was consuming him as you sprinted through the house to find him.

He could only hope that everything would work out, now.

 

* * *

 

Ghayth woke up curled against a warm and loud pulse. He took a moment to process everything that had happened in the past six hours, and then processed it again. He shuffled to peek over your body at the other two Bitties, who even now were still snoozing pleasantly on your chest and stomach respectively.

He turned to look at you and noticed you were waking up.

“Hey, there, little guy.” You whispered. “You doing okay?”

He nodded, making the gesture emphatic so you could see it better.

You sighed and stretched your arms and legs. Your back arched a bit, but the other Bitties slept blissfully through the movement. You chuckled. “They’re awful tired this morning…”

Ghayth nodded. He wanted to tell you that it was because they’d both shared some of their energies so that he could sleep deeply—that was his hypothesis, anyway. The trouble was that he hadn’t been exaggerating the day before. He was dreadfully soft spoken, and when he _could_ speak loud enough, it took a lot out of him.

You reached out to him, and he let you pick him up and bring you closer to your face. “Any pain?” You asked.

He shook his head, marveling at the fact.

You smiled. It was very nice, he noted. Your expressions were always so full of warmth and care.

You set him down gently on a part of the pillow that wasn’t occupied by your extensive mane of hair. Curiously, he reached for a strand near him and grasped it. As you carefully moved the two bitties from your torso to the empty space on the bed next to you, Ghayth contented himself with playing with your hair.

You were humming discordantly under your breath as you picked him back up gingerly, placing him on your shoulder as you got up. He held onto strands of your hair to steady himself, careful not to tug too hard.

He wanted to ask what you were humming. There were a million things he’d love to ask you, but…

Maybe if he got closer to your ear?

“What are you singing?” He asked into your ear about as loud as he dared.

You seemed startled for a moment—no you were ticklish, or the heat was making you giggle. Whatever your response was, you were giggling, the song gone.

You seemed to process the question at last. “It’s a song that Sparx loves a lot. I looked up the lyrics to teach it to him… but…” Your smile fell. “I read the translation and… I don’t think it’s so cute anymore.”

You were blushing furiously, he noted. Again he leaned to your ear, voice soft and nearly muted. “What was it about?”

You tittered nervously. You were in the kitchen now, looking at the contents of your fridge. “Uh, well, the song is adorable sounding, and I thought it was just a bubblegum vocaloid song with cutesy lyrics to match the video. But then the lyrics were talking about…” You hesitated. “The message I got from it was she wanted to be knocked out or choked out. In a sexual context.”

Ghayth burned a little brighter. You noticed and tried to understand whether he was embarrassed or amused. He was both.

You had so many questions for him. What could he eat? What did he enjoy? What could you do to make him more comfortable here? But you knew that speaking aloud was difficult for him, and so you just filed the questions away in your mind for later.

There was one question though that you really needed to know the answer to, but it was the one that would likely have the longest answer. Why was he out in the rain? What happened to him?

Agh, you were going to spend the whole day sewing, weren’t you?

You sighed to yourself and wondered where you were going to put all of the Bitty-clothes that you were going to be making for them. At first you drew a blank, since doll furniture had been lacking in quality… but then you let out a happy cry of triumph when you remembered something sitting in storage.

Back when you lived in an apartment in the city, you hadn’t really been able to do what you wanted with herbs, storage and otherwise… so you’d gotten the little cabinets that worked well enough for what you needed. When you’d moved out here, the first thing you’d done was buy a full-sized storage closet for your herbs. The tiny but beloved cabinets were no longer needed, but you didn’t have the heart to throw them away.

Now you were certainly glad you hadn’t. You had more than enough of them, since they were also just as useful to store paperclips and stones in… You forgot about eating and made for your storage bunker.

Yes, there in the corner! You began tearing through boxes looking for things, humming discordantly again.

Ghayth was quite frightened. You had forgotten he was perched on your shoulder, and now he was clinging to a lock of your hair with one hand and flattened on his belly across your shoulder in an effort to not fall off.

“Yes!” You hissed at last and pulled out the first of the tiny dressers. [How](http://www.13moons.com/media/catalog/product/cache/3/image/1000x/7af70025d9bf4cb937e540a64a4341a7/p/e/pentaclecupboardfbmw32.jpg) [many](http://www.13moons.com/media/catalog/product/cache/3/image/1000x/7af70025d9bf4cb937e540a64a4341a7/f/b/fbmw42sixdrawerchest.jpg) [did](http://www.13moons.com/media/catalog/product/cache/3/image/1000x/7af70025d9bf4cb937e540a64a4341a7/p/e/pentaclechestdrawers.jpg) [you](http://www.13moons.com/media/catalog/product/cache/3/image/1000x/7af70025d9bf4cb937e540a64a4341a7/p/e/pentaclechestcupboard.jpg) [have](http://www.13moons.com/media/catalog/product/cache/3/image/1000x/7af70025d9bf4cb937e540a64a4341a7/f/b/fbmw53.jpg) again? You ended up carting five of them upstairs into your house. They would need to be cleaned off but… you were smiling wide.

“Sugar!” Sparx sprinted across the floor to you. Honey lazed against the doorway to the bedroom and looked relieved.

“Oh, sorry guys. I, uh… Had a moment of genius and had to tend to it.”

You carefully avoided stepping on Sparx and found a place to put the (surprisingly not as heavy as they looked) cabinets down.

Honey appeared next to them and looked at you with an expression of amused incredulity. No, you realized. He wasn’t looking at you.

It was at that moment you noticed the tiny fire clinging to your shoulder. You were sure that if you could hear it, there’d be whimpering. “Oh! I’m so sorry Ghayth, are you okay?” You helped him down and he crouched next to Honey as if admiring stable ground.

Honey leaned down to hear him as he murmured. “I believe I’ve acquired a fear of heights. How troubling.” He sighed, putting his cheek on the cool ground. “Ahh, forgive me, but I need the comfort of the ground for a moment, please, Love.”

Honey paraphrased, and you looked so angry with yourself. Ghayth waved off your apologies and Honey made it clear to you he’d be fine in a few minutes, that it had just been a very startling couple of minutes.

You spent the rest of the day sketching out clothing ideas for them, getting their feedback, and then for a change in pace, began crocheting and knitting beanies for each of them.

Sparx was watching what you were doing intently, as if to memorize your movements, and later you caught him hand-crocheting loose threads nimbly with his tiny fingers. You wished you could lend him a needle, but on closer inspection, he was doing much better work than you were.

Ghayth turned out to really enjoy your sketches of outfits and turned your pages carefully to avoid burning or wrinkling them. When he got to a blank page he hesitated before looking over at you. You noticed him after a moment and asked him what he needed. Sparx explained he wanted to try to draw something, and you told him he was welcome to.

You didn’t think much more on it until you heard Honey whistle and you looked up to see him standing on the corner of the sketchpad while Ghayth was hard at work, drawing tiny, fine details with his fingers. What struck you was the amount of control over his heat he must have to not incinerate the page and just simply burn the lines in-- and then you got up to go look at the page itself.

He’d drawn you, you realized.

He looked at you, glowing proudly. You squatted down next to the table and kissed him on the head. “You’re too precious. It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

The next day, you were out in the garden when you noticed Honey looking around the back yard, out toward the forest in the direction he usually wandered off in.

“What are you up to, little guy?” You asked amiably enough, but still noticed him jump from surprise.

“Ah, hey Butts. Just… actually I needed to talk to you. You got a moment?” He didn’t wait for a response. You had straightened up and he teleported to sit on your shoulder so he could talk to you quietly.

“What’s up?” You asked, feeling concerned. “Is it about Ghayth? Is everything okay?” Had you been neglecting him-- or any of them?!

“No, no. Nothing’s… wrong.”

“Not very reassuring.” You pointed out, dusting your hands off on your jeans. They were stained from grass and faded from the multitude of days spent gardening, so it didn’t break your heart. You liked to imagine each stain was a form of magic, like you were wearing your success.

Just like your garden, everything could bloom if you just worked at it. Business, healing…

“Bux, so… I went out looking… and uh, found something kind of odd.”

“Looking for what?” You asked. “And what kind of odd are we talking? Like, ‘me’ odd or ‘they’re coming for you Barbara’ odd?”

He looked at you like you were an alien creature, but shook his head. “No, uh… It’s more like… there’s a witch who’s been encroaching on your property. This morning I headed out early and found her carving something into a tree.”

Someone was trespassing? “What was it?”

“I don’t know what it was but it felt bad. Made me really uncomfortable to look at it.”

“Can you take me to it?”

He nodded. “We should wait until later though. Just… trust me on that.”

You nodded. “Alright, I’ll trust you. I need to look at something, just in case. Did you get a good look at her?”

He shook his head. “She was wearing a sunhat and black velvet dress. Hurt to look at her, too.”

You nodded. Sounded like she was up to something gross. On your property. You ground your teeth.

Honey stayed on your shoulder and looked around absently, feeling blessedly relieved that you hadn’t pressed for more information on how he found these things or why. He’d tell you eventually, but he… just didn’t know how to phrase it right now and he was just too drained to put it into good words. He just wanted to chill out for a while, forget that weird and heavy feeling in his bones.

You were looking through books on your shelf, and noticed a gap where one should be-- the very one you were looking for. That was right, you and Sparx had looked at a spell in it last night. You wanted to do a healing spell on something you made for Ghayth so that he could recover any lost energy more quickly.

You were looking at the coffee table where you’d left the book but it wasn’t there.

“Honey, do you see my Blue book anywhere?”

He shrugged from your shoulder but you didn’t see. What you _did_ see, however…

“Hey, Ghayth, have you seen my Blue book? The one from last night?”

He pointed to the reading nook where you could see Sparx kicking his feet over the edge of an end table. He was holding something, staring intently down at it.

“I don’t see it.” You said dismally. “Help me out.”

Honey teleported over to Sparx and let out a weird noise. “Bux? Get over here.”

Sparx looked up now, and looked terrified for a moment.

As you got closer you realized why. He was shaking and holding the Blue book out to you-- shrunk to his scale perfectly.

“Sparx, what happened here?” You swallowed your anxiety at the book being inaccessible to you now and tried to focus on being calm and understanding.

“I… I don’t know, Sugar. I… just wanted to read it and somehow I just… made it fit me?”

Honey looked up at you, a similarly perplexed look on his face. Ghayth climbed up the rope ladder hanging from the end table so he could partake in the situation as well.

“Uh, is there a way you can… make it my size again? I kinda need it back.”

He looked crestfallen and shook his head. “Ask Ghayth, I tried as soon as it happened. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to do it! But… But! I started reading it so I could help you!”

You blinked at him. “So you could help me?”

“Yeah!” He smiled up at you, sockets closed and crinkling at the corners. “If you need help, I can read the passages to you and walk you through the steps! And…” His feet were kicking again and his wings were fluttering almost enough to lift him. “And… um… I can also learn more about what you do this way!” He looked so proud of himself.

You sighed. “As long as you can help me keep access to the book, I don’t guess I have a problem. After all, you help me with the energy work. If you want to learn more, I won’t hinder you.” You paused and took a breath. “Just please… be careful with the book, okay? I’m trusting you to keep it safe. There is no replacing it.”

Sparx grinned impossibly wider and Honey had to move to avoid the furiously fluttering wings. He shook his head and grabbed a catnip bit from his hoodie. He showed it to Ghayth, who nodded and pinched the tip with his fingers, lighting it. Honey puffed on it and blew the smoke at Ghayth.

What was your world anymore?

 

* * *

 

Sparx learned what he was doing quickly enough-- but not before you were down three bowls and your favorite holster pocket. Honey got enough use out of the pocket, you mused, so you couldn’t be too angry. But the bowls… Eh, you agreed that you could always get more, and it meant they had more dishes to use. You tried to give him the fourth one of the set (and it had been a fancy set, too, you lamented) just to keep it even, but Sparx refused, saying that you could all match what you ate off of now.

He really was too precious sometimes.

The passage you needed from the Blue book was difficult to locate through Sparx, but eventually the two of you found it and you took Honey’s favorite hoodie and carefully embroidered a sigil on it.

“What’s that for?” Honey asked hesitantly.

“Well, I’m almost sure that whatever the intruder carved into the tree was a sigil of some kind. And if it affected you so intensely, it was both strong and malicious in nature. So I put something on here to protect you, or at least redirect the negative energy.”

You handed the hoodie to him. “Please try it on and see if it feels uncomfortable. I tried to make it as smooth as I could so the thread wouldn’t catch on your spine.”

It turned out that you needed a bit of fusible interfacing to keep it from fraying against his bones, but luckily Ghayth was able to apply heat to it to make it stick. You were glad. You didn’t trust your iron on such tiny clothing.

That night it rained, and so you and Honey had to put off the exploration for the next night. In the meantime, you made a vest for Ghayth with the same sigil on the back, and then tried to figure out what you could make for Sparx. When you looked over at him, though, you noticed he’d shrunken one of your needles and a sample of green embroidery thread and was stitching something. Upon closer inspection, you snorted.

He was embroidering across the butt of his favorite pants. The others looked to see why you were laughing, and Ghayth came closer to give Sparx some pointers. He wasn’t patient enough to make the lines or shapes the way you had, and Ghayth was explaining calmly, guiding the excited fae’s hands in correcting the stitches.

Honey was standing on your shoulder. “Take a picture of this, let’s stick it on the fridge.” He said.

You could only nod. It was adorable to see Ghayth guiding Sparx’s hands like a loving father-figure. Even more adorable was the glimpse of adoration on Sparx’s face when he saw how much better he was getting already.

“I’m going into a **Sugar** -induced coma, Butts.” He muttered in your ear and you chuckled again in agreement.

 

* * *

 

That night, after dinner, Sparx asked you if you had any good bedtime stories that you could tell.

Looking at him bouncing with excitement, you remembered a favorite story of yours, made all the more fitting by the main character.

“Okay, you three. Gather ‘round. I’m gonna tell you the story of Issun-boshi.”

It was no secret that you fancied fairy tales, and your love of stories extended to those of all cultures and nationalities. But there were so few stories you could remember in full where the main character was Bitty-sized.

“Long ago, there lived an old couple who lived alone, despite wanting more than anything to have a child of their own. The old woman wished for a child, no matter how small.” You smiled at them. “And miraculously, a son was born to them-- but he was indeed very small. He was even smaller than you, Sparx.” You put your finger up. “No bigger than the tip of my finger, I swear it.”

Sparx laughed and hugged himself. Honey grinned up at you with a fond expression. Ghayth was as unreadable as ever but seemed rapt on your story. You continued. “They named him Issun-boshi, which… i suppose if you translated it would mean ‘one-inch-son,’ but that’s only if I remember correctly. So sue me.”

Honey chuckled at that.

“Despite his size, his parents loved him unconditionally. But one day, he realized he would never grow, so he went on a trip to seek his place in the world. He took on the role of a samurai, and was given a sewing needle for a sword.”

You thought you saw Ghayth flare just a bit brighter. Sparx was eyeing your sewing basket. “Sparx, please. No.” You said before continuing. “Our friend Issun also had a trusty boat-- a soup bowl and he used chopsticks as his oars.” You paused, smiling at them, suddenly imagining them sailing in bowls.

Honey looked amused by this as well and gestured for you to go on as he shoveled a bite of mint into his mouth. “In his trusty bowl, he sailed downriver to a city where he got a job protecting a beautiful princess. The father of the princess laughed at Issun because of his height and said that he was fit for a playmate, perhaps, but was likely incapable of keeping the princess safe.”

Sparx crossed his arms and leaned over to Honey, speaking to how you couldn’t hear. “I’d love to hear him say that to Mama Larkspur. She’d gut him with an oak leaf.”

Honey accidentally swallowed the mint leaf. Who was Sparx talking about?

You didn’t seem to notice the change in mood. “While the princess and Issun were on their travels together, there was an attack. An oni showed up and swallowed Issun whole so that he could have the princess all to himself. Issun, in the oni’s throat, held fast and began stabbing with his needle sword.”

Ghayth burned a bit brighter. You realized he was excited by the story. You wondered if he liked swords.

“The oni spit Issun out and retreated, dropping a magical mallet in his haste.” You remembered the rest of the story and hesitated. Honey stared at you, waiting for you to go on, seeming concerned by your change in expression.

“What happened next, Sugar?” Sparx asked, giving you miserable puppy-dog eyes.

“Agh. Fine. The princess was proud of Issun and used the power of the magical mallet to grow him to full size. Issun and the princess stayed together happily and eventually did the marriage thing. The end.”

They were all looking at you funny. Ghayth turned to Honey and he related the question to you. “Uh, you don’t seem too happy about that?”

You shrugged. “Sorry, I just… forgot that the end was something so… unsatisfying.”

“I thought it was cool!” Sparx said. “He saved his princess and lived happily ever after with her!”

You nodded. “I… guess I just didn’t want you to think the only way to live happily ever after was to change yourself.” You stared into his sockets, hoping he would understand your message. “There is no reason to change yourself so drastically…”

Honey cocked his head at you. “Bux, are you ok?”

“I… forget that stories always say that you can’t have a happily ever after without changing yourself and... love and marriage and… It’s just exhausting.” You met Honey’s eyes again and sighed. “Nothing wrong with that love stuff… it’s just not for everyone. It’s not for me.” Your voice took on a slight steel edge and you tried to drop the acid in your words. “It’s just not for me.”

“You’re okay with us, Sugar.” Sparx said. “You’re safe with us.” He could feel your anger, and he knew it wasn’t directed at any of them. It was something you couldn’t throw at a target, and in return, the anger had turned inward, desperate for an outlet.

Ghayth spoke to you. “You’re not broken. And we love you.”

It was barely audible to you, but when you registered what he said, you felt the stone facade crumble slightly and you grinned at them, trying to swallow the lump in your throat to no avail.

You fell asleep with the three of them hugging you however they could. You’d never felt more emotionally drained but also… so at peace.

 

* * *

 

 

You dreamed that Honey was riding Psymon through the forest, and they were hunting a creature shrouded in a black cloak covered in blinking, red glowing eyes. They held a bird cage.

You woke up feeling very uneasy, made more so by Ghayth poking your cheek in an effort to wake you. He pointed toward the bathroom and you went in there to see that Honey and Sparx had managed to run bathwater, get a soup bowl to float in the tub, and Sparx was eagerly trying to row his makeshift boat with your chopsticks.

You made a note to put your sewing needles on a taller shelf, on the off-chance those were next.

Honey looked at you and nodded to the back door. You told Sparx he should study the book while you were out, mostly so Ghayth didn’t feel obliged to stay near water to keep an eye on Sparx.

You could feel that something was about to change. Something big. And you needed to be ready for it. Under the shadow of your tricorn, Honey sat on your shoulder, leaning against your neck and chewing on mint to calm his nerves.

“Let’s do this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys, I'm sorry I went an entire month without updating, but life is hard and stuff.  
> Feel free to interact with me on tumblr, i promise i love talking to ppl, even if it's just about characters, fandom in general, or if you want to gush about your own fics. (Anon is always an option as well, remember ^.^)  
> If you don't have tumblr, I'm still down to talking, okay?
> 
> And as always, remember that I take suggestions for fluff! If there's something you wanna see them do or react to, tell me!  
> Also, just for clarification (This is non canon but I giggled when I thought of it):  
> Sparx: Team Valor  
> Honey: Team Instinct  
> Ghayth: Team Mystic  
> Bux: Sparx, please quit shrinking my phones.


	5. Following Directions is Not My Thing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back guys. It's been a while. Let's have some sweetness. And bitterness. 
> 
> Like that sweet and sour soup at the chinese buffet, yea?
> 
> Enjoy (like a buffet. all the bitties you can snuggle.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, it's been a while. I am so fucking sorry I really am. It's been a ride. I finally got out of homelessness, am in a relationship, and have a full time job working in a fibreglass factory. It's very painful and aggravating, and has left me so little time to write or enjoy life whatsoever.
> 
> Well, fuck fibreglass I'll write and be happy in spite of it. I finished a fic, and came right back to this one, thanks to a very specific reader of this fic who drew some beautiful fanart of Ghayth (which I will link as soon as I'm given permission to because holy shit too cute everyone must see!). Got me inspired again. So all those notes I lost, I got back into. Dove head first. And it all begins here.
> 
> This chapter is short. Shorter than I'd like, because I write a minimum of 10 pages per chapter. This is about half that. But, to get us back on track, this is what I can do right now. And I will continue to work on this fic. THIS FIC IS MY NEW PRIORITY.
> 
> So welcome back to the fluff. Thank you all for sticking with me. Love you all!

You let Honey guide you through the forest, but after a few minutes’ walk, you almost didn’t need the instructions. You could feel it. It was palpable. Someone had been through here, and they bred nothing but unrest and…

“There.” He said. “Do you see it?”

You didn’t. “You can see it clearly?”

“It hurts to look, Bux.”

You glared at the Marked tree. Honey was too stressed to even call you Butts. This was definitely serious. “Alright. I’m gonna deal with this. I need you to stick right here, away from it so you don’t feel even worse, okay?”

“But…”

“I’m not telling you to leave, and I’m not in any danger. I just want to get this malicious warding out of my woods. If it wasn’t beyond me, I’d make a glamour or a redirection to keep whoever it was away.” There was a pause.

“Bux?”

“What is drawing them to this area? Why keep others away? Are they weakening something? Me, or something else?”

Those… were questions Honey had admittedly been asking himself. And the truly puzzling thing was he could feel his irksome little affinity for trouble guiding him. _Something_ was near, and…

It was calling him.

“Bux.”

“Mm?” You were already casting your circle. He hadn’t noticed you’d hidden your implements in your belt pockets. Salt, a few tealight candles, a lighter, and so on. Whatever you were about to do, you both sure hoped it would work.

“I don’t think they were after you. There’s something around here, and it feels like… it’s…”

“Pulling you? Yeah, I got that too. Usually it’s some kind of tri-- oh my god.”

“What?”

“Oh my god.”

“Bux, _what?”_

“Faeries. _Faeries_ , Honey! That would explain why we feel a tug, why it’s…” You couldn’t put your finger on the feeling you wanted to convey.

“Malicious? Worrying?”

“Yes, those work.” You admitted, continuing your ritual setup. He teleported to nestle in your hair. Comfort be damned, he wanted to stay close.

“So…. if it’s Faeries?”

“Sparx might know more. He came from the Fae, so… hell, it might even be the same court he came from! And if we’re wrong, we ruled out one possibility and move on.”

“Ok so… This ward thing. Why would it be here then?”

You gave a tiny shrug so as not to jostle him much as you crouched on the ground and cleared away enough debris to settle the candles. “I mean, it could be any number of things, I guess? They could have been trying to bind the tricky little things here, keep them away-- but then why go to so much trouble all the way out here when they could just make their home inhospitable to the Fae?”

Honey waited for you to continue. Thoughtfully, hesitantly, you ventured another guess. “They might be trying to find a way to harness the Fae. It’s not a smart idea, nor would I believe it’s possible… but someone with this level of shitty intention might try it-- especially if they have reason to believe it will work. _Gods,_ this shit is so venomous.”

“The ward?”

“The stench of her magic.”

“Her?”

“I can’t help but feel like this was a woman, for some reason. Very clean-cut, very deeply settled… very underhanded but loud. Men who practice usually keep it pretty quiet, since it’s mostly a ‘girl-oriented’ type thing. They usually incorporate it into something subtle.”

He didn’t know what to say about that. “Why, if harnessing the Fae isn’t a good idea, would they be doing it?”

“Hm? Oh. Right.” You were starting to get a bit distracted. “Well. It’s… not a good idea because the Fae do not bow to humans.” You thought about something Sparx had told you when he’d first found you. “They don’t like humans unless they can control them-- thus trying to harness them would be like me setting myself on fire to try and control fire.”

He snorted. But then he thought into Sparx’s comment from the night before. “Hey, Butts? Did Sparx ever tell you about where he came from?”

“He said he didn’t fit in. Other than that… holy shit, I don’t know anything.”

“He mentioned someone yesterday. Mama something.”

“Maybe the human who broke his wing?”

“I don’t think so. In context, that wouldn’t make sense. It was while you were telling that story about the little guy with the needle and the soup bowl.”

“Issun Boshi.”

“Yeah, him. Someone in the story was like ‘ _you can’t protect the girl because you’re little_ ’ and he said ‘tell that to mama whatever.’ He said something else too. To the effect, I think, of cutting someone with a leaf.”

“Honey, sweetheart, your paraphrasing skills are worth your weight in gold.”

“That’s not saying much. You calling me fat?” He poked you in the neck with a chuckle.

“Vague, but absolutely what I needed to know. Wow.” You were almost done with what you were trying to do. Already the negativity in the area was almost gone. “I… He never told me about that stuff.”

“That’s the only bit I’ve heard. Honestly, I don’t know why he said it, knowing that neither Ghayth nor I would know who he was talking about, and you didn’t even hear him.”

“Maybe he’s getting ready to open up about it.” You said hopefully. “He didn’t want to talk about it when he found me. I just let it go. If he ever wants to talk about it, I hope he knows I’m here.”

“I’m sure he does, Butts. You’re probably right. He’s probably just coming around to talking about it, starting with offhanded cryptic remarks.”

“That worries me. It’s… kind of different for him. I mean, he isn’t usually like this."

"Should we look around?” He asked as you got up. “I think I could pinpoint where it’s at… but…”

“Yeah, the pull is kind of scary, right? If I’ve learned one thing, it’s respect the Fae. They will fuck you up in ninety ways before you even know where you are.”

“Yyyyeah let’s just go home. I need some mint and some catnip. And some honey.”

“How about just… food and quiet sounds good right now?”

 

* * *

 

Sparx was uncomfortable at first when the topic was brought up-- and then when Honey asked if he could mediate or perhaps ask them what was going on, he went very quiet. He was quiet all the way through dinner, and then he climbed onto your hand.

“If I go back, they’ll never let me go again. Mama said she’d be ashamed if I went to look for humans, because I’d only put the Court in danger. She said I’d easier count all the salt in the sea than ever find her mate.”

“Have you been looking for her mate?”

“No. It’s dangerous. I found what I _really_ needed. I found a home and a family where I belong.” He said, his voice getting stronger as he went. “All there was there were lies. They lie about who they are. They lie about what’s out here. They lie about who I am. They lie about everything, Sugar. Please don’t let them take me back. I’ll never get back out and I’m afraid I’ll believe them again.”

You and Honey worked on calming him down, but it was Ghayth who finally accomplished it, holding him and soothingly stroking his skull. You could only assume Ghayth was talking or singing to him. You and Honey needed to talk, anyway.

“Do we _have_ to contact them?” He asked.

“It would tell us what we’re up against. Unless I surveil the woods until I find her, it’s our best lead. But honestly, I’d rather do that than risk losing any of you.” You waited, and when Honey didn’t respond you grew wary. “Don’t consider going.” You said. “If not for me, think of how it would make Sparx feel.”

“Pulling at my heartstrings, Bux. I mean, nothing in my ribcage to tug at but you’re doing it there. Don’t worry, I won’t--”

“Honey.” You said it firmly. “I mean it.”

“Okay, Butts. I won’t.”

“Swear?”

“Fuck that. That’s the only swear you’re getting from me. You’ll just have to trust me.”

 

* * *

 

The next morning, when you woke up, Ghayth was again poking you in the face. Frantically. Sparx was still asleep.

It wasn’t morning at all, was it? You checked. It was technically morning, at three-thirty, right? You realized immediately what was amiss. You were down a Bitty. Ghayth was flailing his arms trying to wave you in. You turned your head and he crawled up closer to your ear.

“He said he’ll be back soon. I tried to stop him but…” He made a hissing sound. “He promised he’d be back.”

 _That little..._ “It’s okay, Ghayth. I’m going to leave you here with Sparx and go after him. If Sparx wakes up, don’t tell him what’s going on. I’m afraid he’ll be upset.”

“Of course, Love.”

 

* * *

 

Honey looked through the veil of leaves with holes burned in them so fine it made what was left look like lace. He had an intense feeling that called him forward-- but another feeling kept telling him to turn around. To return to the warmth.

He felt bad. He felt way too shitty about this. Not just lying to Bux, but…

Ghayth had clung to him, trying to convince him to stay. He’d had to teleport away, but… he couldn’t cut it clean. One rarely could in such situations, he mused. The sweetness and warmth of his friend would be missed.

He didn’t pretend that there wasn’t more than gratitude for Honey saving his life. Ghayth’s silent admiration was complex.

Honey didn’t know how to return such feelings. At least, not right now. He truly wanted to give it a shot.

He wanted to open up, have more talks in the windowsill after Bux and Sparx fell asleep. He wanted to smoke more little cigarettes and talk about how luck had led them all to each other, about how the chances had been so slim.

About how grateful they were to be safe. To be together. To be loved.

Staring through the greenery lace, Honey reminded himself that the feeling of warmth in his bones wouldn’t subside. As long as Ghayth hung on, he’d always know where to find home.

He’d always know where to find the hearth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give me your theories. Give me your comments, tell me how glad you are to see this continue. I'm running mostly off of love right now. 
> 
> Fibreglass sucks.
> 
> GET READY FOR NEXT CHAPTER, WHERE WE MEET SPARX'S MUM, MAMA LARKSPUR! (and the rest of the Fae in this court)


	6. The "Fair Folk" Are Seldom Fair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honey meets the Floral Court. Will this be a quick visit, or will he ever be allowed to leave?
> 
> Who is Mama Larkspur?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again, everyone, for your sweet words and your patience. Work and personal life has been hell lately, and so I've been hard at work. This is a double update, the other chapter im posting is for Fell-Searcher. I know these chapters are shorter than I usually post, but it's just to assure that I keep updating with some sort of frequency. 
> 
> I want to get these stories written for you guys!
> 
> Watch out for my concept art (in progress, that's why the quality is low for now) in this chapter!

Spears. Delicate-looking, finely crafted spears. Three of them were in position. He was surrounded. It was too late to turn back, but he couldn't fool himself into thinking he’d have gone.

"Find Larkspur and Snap." One of them muttered to a fourth guard. That's what they were, their [armor](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/a4/8d/60/a48d60cadc2b7af3942bfc20fcce4dad.jpg) made Honey aware he was outgunned as well as outnumbered. He should have grabbed at least a talisman of some sort before leaving.

He looked around, but every time he saw these guards in his peripheral vision he almost panicked. The innocent green armor would twist into black. The spears would become corrupted, like strands of barbed wire glowing ominously.

Honey realized he was in over his head and clutched desperately to that warm feeling in him. He didn’t want to lose it. Would he forget home? He couldn’t. He had to get back home. But he needed to learn. He needed to know what the person who warded this area was up to.

And damn his curiosity, he wanted to meet Sparx’s mother.

"Holy shiiit, Snap is gonna freeeeeak." One of the guards muttered behind Honey.

Another voice hissed at him. "Shhhhhhut the fuck up, Monkey."

"Don’t call me that." The third guard said. "And _he’s_ Wolfsbane. _I’m_ Monkshood!”

"You’re both idiots.” The second guard’s high, disdainful voice rang.

"Shut up Aconi." Monkshood huffed, his gruff voice sounding especially hilarious with the childish attitude.

Aconi giggled, and Honey realized they’d lowered their weapons. “We’re not gonna hurt you. Even if you do smell like humans. I don’t think you could kill us if you tried.” She leaned in closer, and he could feel her intent. She was chewing her lips. “And I’m sure you figured this out, but your magic doesn’t work here.”

 _Shit_. He hadn’t even thought of trying to teleport, but he felt even dumber now. This had all been a terrible idea. He turned his head to look at the guards respectively, half expecting to be smacked for his trouble. Instead he saw [Aconi](https://68.media.tumblr.com/6239bd9d112d8ced29279fa8c590a78d/tumblr_otxi8b4Kkk1vsxcqwo6_250.jpg)’s shining, violet lips part over rows of saw teeth.

Wolfsbane snickered. “Sis, leave the poor guy alone. He doesn’t look too into you.”

“It’s the armor.” She sighed, her [wings ](https://68.media.tumblr.com/2a9dac309b75cf3035d34fb4c95dcd15/tumblr_otxi8b4Kkk1vsxcqwo4_1280.jpg)drooping in mock disappointment.

“Not the armor.” Monkshood argued.

“I CAME AS QUICKLY AS I COULD WHAT IS THE MEANING OF-- oh.”

Honey turned to face the newcomer.

The [woman](https://68.media.tumblr.com/34737c1cd15ed0ab288842545a31ebd6/tumblr_otxi8b4Kkk1vsxcqwo3_250.jpg) was in [armor](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/3d/28/05/3d280560df15e0400aa49d97d93ef541.jpg) herself. They all looked suspiciously humanoid, but with some kind of floral resemblance. In fact, on this one’s back were two blooms of-- “I’m Snapdragon.” Yes, he realized. [In lieu of wings,](https://68.media.tumblr.com/c4d2b934378e37d397861d97aca9b4c1/tumblr_otxi8b4Kkk1vsxcqwo1_1280.jpg) she had Snapdragon sprouting from her back.

He looked back to the other three, and noticed they all looked about the same. Monkshood. Wolfsbane. Aconi? _Aconitum!_ Of course, they were all the same thing! Suddenly, Honey was glad he’d learned so much about plants from you.

“Fuck.” He groaned. “Why are you all named after flowers?”

Snapdragon seemed amused. “Sweetheart, we don’t _really_ look like this.” She waved the trio off. “Weapons _down_!” She came closer as the three guards shuffled nervously. “I need to ask you some questions. But… you need to come with me, first.”

He hesitated. Snap smiled at him. “I just need you to come see Mama Larkspur, one of the other Broodmothers. You’re not the first of your kind to visit us-- you likely won’t be the last. But we need to all… understand each other.”

“You’re not going to kill me?”

“No. Of course not.” She laughed. “I can’t speak for everyone, though. As long as you do not bring danger to us, we will not harm you.”

What was it Sparx had said that one night? _We speak in such a way… we can’t outright lie. But our favorite trick is to say we’ll help you, or not harm you. If we help you, it’s with the promise of favors in return. And help and harm are always objective_.

Objective. That had been an odd word, but since Sparx had been reading your books, his vocabulary had expanded exponentially. What had he meant by that?

 _I guess it depends on who they’re really helping, themselves or me_. He shrugged and followed the amiable, modest Fae creature.

“It’s very hard to wait for questions.” Snap said on the way down corridors that seemed to be lit by glows reminiscent of fireflies. “So I’ll ask the most important ones. Did you know Mortimer?”

“Who?”

“The oddly named fellow who looks like you. But shorter. And rounder. He was so sweet, and loved to wear blue things. Larkspur misses him dearly, but the human took him away, and he never returned.”

“I… I’m sorry, but I don’t.”

“Do you know Delphinium?”

Honey paused for a long time. “Del...?”

“Delph for short. Larkspur chose it for their son. He has green eyes, and green wings. He was very shy and quiet, but… he was so sweet.”

Holy shit, Honey realized she was crying.

“Was he about this tall?” Honey asked, gesturing to Sparx’s approximate height.

Snapdragon looked at him. “By now, perhaps…”

“I think I know him by a different name. And he’s definitely not shy or quiet.”

Snapdragon blinked at him for a moment, and Honey realized they had stopped walking. “Tell me.”

“Uh. His name is Sparx. I’ve known him for a couple months now.”

“Is it really him? I need proof. I need to know.”

“Uh. Well… He shrinks things to his size? Is that normal?”

Snapdragon shook her head. “It must be a talent of those like you. You have talents, too, right?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” He mused. “Uh…” He remembered the story night. “He told me something strange once. Mama-someone could gut a guy with a leaf? I think that’s what he said.”

“Could it have been Mama Larkspur?”

“I mean, probably. It would make sense.”

“I believe there is a drastic difference in urgency between us.” She said. “But in the case that it is indeed Delph that you’re talking about…”

“He said his father was out there somewhere. That he looked more like his father than his mother. He said he was afraid to come back here, and didn’t want me to.”

Snap didn’t look as upset as Honey had expected. He was relieved. She wasn’t crying anymore, either. “It… It has to be him.”

Honey looked her in the eyes, did his best to appear sincere and intent. “He is safe and loved where he is. He is happy.”

She nodded and looked away. “I’ll believe you. But not because I trust you. I’ll believe you because it will make me not hurt so.”

She grabbed his sleeve and tugged him insistently. “You will tell Larkspur about this. Immediately. She needs any sort of closure, as soon as possible. She’s been so… cold since he left. So many of us have faced her wrath. To hear that he is safe… it might be enough to snap her out of her mood.”

She shrugged. “I doubt it though. She’s been bitter ever since Mortimer was taken.”

“So is she like… your queen or something?”

“We don’t work that way. Perhaps some Courts do, but we cannot place our faith in one alone. However, among the Broodmothers, she is indeed the one who holds the most sway, though some of us may disagree.”

“How… does this all work?” He asked.

“Are you asking because you genuinely want to know, or so you can find a weakness and exploit it?”

He cocked a brow at her. “Do you seriously think I have any capability to hurt any of you?”

She huffed. “Yes. Though perhaps not in a way you’d initially consider.”

 

* * *

 

Larkspur’s room was dark, but upon Snap’s entrance, Honey in tow, it lit up. Dim, but just enough for Honey to catch sight of her. She was just sitting there, in the dark, as if she had nothing to do but stare at the wall. When her eyes caught him, she straightened, and the regal look about her made Honey equal parts amused and nervous.

“Lark, this stranger might know Delph.”

The lights flashed in the room, and Honey saw color flood into[ the blooms that covered her body](https://68.media.tumblr.com/854d735fafb544c59b57f8992194d3cd/tumblr_otxi8b4Kkk1vsxcqwo9_400.jpg) and wove like [streams in her hair](https://68.media.tumblr.com/bc33a066dc95197912cdfe3c884b39c6/tumblr_otxi8b4Kkk1vsxcqwo10_1280.jpg). Dark, beautiful violet flooded her skin and her eyes flashed green-- bright, intelligent, but nowhere nearly as warm as Sparx’s.

“Yeah. I knew him.” He thought it might put her at ease, and so he added. “He’s got your eyes.”

Larkspur’s mouth turned up at one end. “That’s funny, since you know well this isn’t what I actually look like.”

He started to talk, but his words died in his mouth when for a brief glimpse he saw the room as a dank hole in the ground, the woman in front of him made of gnarled fibres, her flesh pitted, sockets hollow, ever-present grin showing teeth that were too sharp. Too long.

Just as abruptly as it had begun, it was over, and he somehow managed to not reel. He’d encountered worse, right? The nasty woman who threatened to step on him over a cigarette was definitely worse, right?

“Do you still think he has my eyes?” She asked.

Honey, of course, didn’t care if it was rhetorical. “Now I’m even more sure, honestly. You both have a loudness to you, even when you’re quiet. Nothing you do is subtle, but that’s a good thing.”

She blinked at him and then turned to Snapdragon who was trying hard to not bray laughter into her hands.

“I’m… not subtle?”

“I’m sure in some ways you are, to be fair.” He added.

Snapdragon put a hand over Honey’s teeth. “Please, stop.” She managed to say.

Larkspur beckoned them closer. Still giggling, Snapdragon drug him forward.

“Snap. If you would be so kind to notify Chrys that we have another mouth in the Court, or send someone else to…”

Snap inclined her head and patted Honey on the back. “Don’t worry, friend. With your sense of humor, you’ll fit right in with a lot of us.”

After Snap was gone, Honey was aware that the room’s temperature chilled almost instantly. Larkspur hummed and looked up at him. “You only knew Delph, yes?”

“He has a different name, where I come from, but yeah. He’s safe and happy.”

“And how am I supposed to believe you? You’re not one of us. You can lie if you please.”

“Is there some way I could convince you I’m not lying? How about an exchange of info? I’m not exactly here for a social visit.”

She inclined an eyebrow at him, her mouth drawing into a bright and sharp grin. There was, once again, no warmth in this expression.

“The person who takes care of… Delph and I, they watch over this forest. Someone-- some woman, they think-- put up a powerful and negative ward near your Court. We want to know why, and maybe it will give us some way to keep her away.”

Larkspur’s expression remained neutral. “And how do I know your master isn’t the Velvet Woman herself?”

“You’d sense her on me, wouldn’t you?”

Her expression cracked and warmth seeped in. “You’re smarter than you appear, then. Though less excitable than I’d hoped. Mortimer had told me of your kind… I’m not entirely surprised so much as just… Why are you so much taller?”

“There are different types of us. If your guy wore a lot of blue and was hyper, I’d say he’s the kind that usually get paired with guys like me. We balance each other out a bit. Not that I agree with pet-treatment, but we have… i guess _perks_ that make us work well with each other.”

“And this… master of yours…?”

“Wouldn’t call them that. They don’t treat us like pets. We’re just… tiny tenants. We call ‘em Bux, or Sugar. They make us clothes, give us food, and help us stay healthy. They let us do as we please. As I said earlier, we’re safe and happy there.”

“So why are you here?”

“We need answers. We have someone potentially dangerous on our property, no idea why, and the only guys who’d know why are you. I didn’t tell Bux I was leaving. I didn’t want them to worry.” He chuckled. “Hoped I could be back with news quickly.”

“Hmmm.” Larkspur just continued to study Honey’s face. “We need time. To see if you’re truthful, for one, though if it were only me, I’d choose to believe you. If the Velvet Lady is seeking our Court again, it can’t be for good reasons. You know more at the moment than we do, and perhaps…” She trailed off.

She smiled, and this time the warmth touched her eyes. “You must stay for a short while. Unless you choose to stay longer, of course. Welcome, to my Court.”

For some reason, that alone gave Honey the worst case of heebie-jeebies.

Larkspur walked gracefully around him. “Come with me. I’ll show you around. I’m sure by now you’re famished.”

“That means hungry, right?” He decided playing dumb was his best bet right now.

She didn’t respond. He noted that he likely didn’t fool her. Apparently it didn’t even register as a joke, either. _Tough crowd._ He thought.

Already he was regretting coming this way. He missed the mornings when Sparx and Bux were still asleep and he and Ghayth could sit around. Honey liked to practice some old jokes on him. He was always such a good audience, sometimes he even responded to them. Okay, _often_ he responded. He’d chuckle softly into his hand, so quietly that Honey had to strain to hear. It was a sweet sound.

He held onto the warmth in his chest. He’d just have to keep it in his thoughts-- something told him this was only the beginning.

If he ever got home, he’d remind himself never to take it for granted how warm and inviting it was, how lovely the company had been. And _fuck everything_ , he’d hug Ghayth for a month.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another reason this chapter is short is because it's a lot... easier to introduce characters slowly, or just not all at once. There are a lot of Fae in this Court, and I don't want to toss them all in at once.
> 
> That being said, I hope the art helps keep them all in line!

**Author's Note:**

> How about it? Do you love Fae!Sans as much as I do? 
> 
> Drop me a line below in the comments! I love to hear from you.
> 
> Also, if you're looking for updates on this or any of my works, please consider stopping by my tumblr! (www.zaiyofics.tumblr.com)


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